Part Two of The Very Beginning – My First Suicide Attempt and Journal Entries from March 1997

This post is part two of  The Very Beginning – My First Suicide Attempt and Journal Entries from March 1997, which was my last post. Both these posts were originally written in March of 2017. I wanted to share this part of my life with you again as most people have not read it and these chapters in my life will be shared in memoir. Not written exactly in this manner, but the story is the same.

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Post from March 2017…

I believe there are no accidents. God is always present making things happen for His purpose.

Sometimes he whispers into our ear or gives us a soft nudge making things happen when He needs them to.

He always has a purpose and a plan… and sometimes that purpose is saving lives.

My new bipolar disorder diagnosis was all very new and scary to me at the time. I couldn’t accept my diagnosis and the changes and disruptions in my life and didn’t understand what was happening to me. My once perfect life I once had changed and was seemingly taken away from me.

I didn’t know how to survive with my severe pain and the sudden and drastic changes in  my life. It was too new to me and I didn’t know how to cope. Also, and most importantly I had not found Jesus yet, but God was still always with me through everything I was going through. I just didn’t know it yet.

Even when we aren’t aware of it, God is always with us and never leaves our side. I know that completely now, but did not know it then.

I was very suicidal and gave up on life. I didn’t think I could live with the severe mental pain I had and I couldn’t live the way I was being forced to. My once perfect life I loved of teaching special education and being a great mom was abruptly and drastically taken away from me. I was told my life would never be the same again and I could not accept that at the time.

I also did not have a good support system from my family or anyone else. My brain was very broken and I was severely ill.

My constant suicidal ideations were very knew to me. I was not used to them and felt that someone or something was talking to me and telling me it was time to die and I was ready to.

I wrote my suicide notes to my two children and my family. They are written word for word from my journal entries from March of 1997 in my last post.

Then I took all of my pills, walked into my bedroom, laid down in my bed and waited to die, waited for my pills to put me into a sleep I would never wake up from. I was ready to die.

I do not remember anything after that.

God was right there with me and He had a different plan and purpose for my life. It was not my time to die and leave earth forever. He was not ready for me to die.

Since I do not remember anything after I took my pills and laid down in my bed, I was told of the events that occurred next.

When I was laying in my bed waiting to die, my mother called me from Minneapolis, Minnesota. I believe and know that God whispered lovingly into my mom’s ear and gave her a soft delicate but strong nudge to pick up the telephone, dial it and call me as I lay in my bed dying in La Crosse, Wisconsin about two and half hours away from her residence.

I am not sure what happened. Maybe I honestly didn’t want to die and was hoping someone calling me on the phone did actually love me and I answered the phone talking with slurred words. Maybe I was semi-unconscious and bumped the phone answering it and talking incoherently. Either way, by instinct I answered my telephone as I was lying in my dead waiting for the process of my forever demise.

I am not sure exactly how it happened, but whatever did happen it was enough for my mom to know something was serious wrong with me and she called 911 from her home in Minneapolis, Minnesota and reached La Crosse, WI and got emergency help to my apartment to rescue me.

The police and ambulance arrived at my home and brought me to the hospital where they pumped my stomach and did whatever  to save my life.

I do not remember being in ICU and only slightly remember being in CCU for a short time.

The only thing I remember from being in CCU is that my usually very kind and caring psychiatrist Dr. M was very angry with me. While in my CCU room he walked over to the corner of my room, looked out the window with his back facing towards me as he said he couldn’t believe I was alive and that he couldn’t believe I didn’t least wreck some of my organs like my liver or something. He told me I was very lucky to alive and have survived my overdose.

God saved my life. I would have died except for the fact that God had my mother call me right at the perfect time she needed to so I could be rescued by emergency services and brought to the hospital in time so they could save my life, with God’s help of course.

It was a miracle I survived and a miracle that none of my organs were damaged at all.

I am a miracle. God saved my life. God saves life.

My brain is and was trying to kill me, but God keeps saying NO WAY. It is not time.

Thank you, God. I truly adore you and love you. Praise God for His perfect timing, miracles, healing, loving heart, forgiveness, the gift and beauty of life, His many blessings in my life and for His mercy and grace.

I praise and worship my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ forever and always.

I am a bipolar disorder survivor and I am a suicide survivor.

I give God all the glory, and I celebrate living and my beautiful life .

Copyright © 2017-2018 by Susan Walz | myloudbipolarwhispers.com | All Rights reserved

 

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