**TRIGGER WARNING** Her SIDE of THINGS

Sorry its been a while since I have produced any work for you guys! This post is to celebrate my precious daughter who wrote this essay for a contest submission piece, designed for young Writers Nationwide, hosted by the New York Times. This is her side of the story from 2018, during the time of my attempted suicide. It broke my heart to read and edit for her, but I think its just as important to share her story, as it is mine…. Her story is a powerful perspective of what it’s like to be a child to someone who struggles with Mental health issues. It’s a bold, passionate and moving message that I believe can possibly help someone who might be struggling with suicidal ideations….

Please remember… If you are struggling… Reach out… My resource page provides multiple contacts ready to help 24/7… Asking for help doesn’t make you weak… It makes you courageous, brave and so strong… It means you are a fighter, a powerful warrior who’s story needs to be continued! Keep fighting my friends!!!

Leave her a word of encouragement after you read! She too is an incredible wrtier herself, and I am so proud of her for being so strong and bold!

-Kristi Fuller

Photo by RODNAE Productions on Pexels.com

The Little side of a Fuller Story

-by Jeni F

I will never forget the day my mom tried to end her life. My young mind couldn’t understand death; so obviously, I couldn’t even fathom why someone would want to kill themselves. After my mom’s attempt, I needed answers, so she sat me down and shared her journey with me. She also explained that those moments she spent trapped in her loneliest hour, it wasn’t that she wanted to die, she didn’t know how to live. She also educated me on the importance of awareness and prevention. Afterward, I wasn’t left questioning my mother’s love.

            It all started when mom went back to work after taking a brief hiatus from her job to focus fully on her schoolwork. She took on a full-time position that was going to require some overtime, while also attending college full-time. 

Most days, it was obvious from her tired eyes, and frazzled hair she was overstretched and highly stressed with just those two responsibilities; and of course, she still had the normal daily responsibilities of having a family and a house to maintain.  With an overly full plate already, my mom’s job was becoming more demanding of her time by enforcing a lot of mandatory overtime. She left before the sun came up and came home typically after my dad had already fed us and tucked us into bed for the night. 

When she was allowed to come home at a decent time, it didn’t matter because she always brought work home.  She may have been home physically, but her attention was still at work.  Whole conversations were had with her, but she never noticed.  Sometimes she’d glanced up from her computers to acknowledge our existence with a nod and a smile to try and make it seem like what we had to say was just as important as her work; but we knew it wasn’t.

We barely saw her. As more days passed, she was gone even more.  She was so busy we had to call her at work to share the latest TEA, but even then, she always hurried us off the phone asking, “Is this an emergency, or can it wait.” It was never an emergency, we just missed her.

Then one morning she was home and not working; but something was off.  My parents were quiet, and everything felt tense; so, I made sure to maintain a low profile and stayed out of sight. At night, we waited for dad to tuck us in like always, but he never came.  As we laid there waiting, we could hear my parents bickering, followed by a stillness that hosted the faint sniffles of someone softly crying.  My sister and I walked towards the stairs being nosey, but nothing! Standing silently hidden out of sight, the rattle of keys and shuffling of feet heading for the stairway prompted us to quickly scurry back to bed to avoid being caught eavesdropping. Then, BAMM!! Startled we both jumped unaware it was just the front door slamming shut. We ran to the window and saw mom walking away.  Her face was lit up by bright lights beaming from the porch, which highlighted the tears streaming down her face.

In that moment, the invincible strong woman I’ve always known, now looked fragile and full of sadness. As she drove away I knew this day wasn’t going to end well. 

On March 18th 2018, my mom almost lost her life to depression, but her story isn’t the norm; luckily she survived, but most people don’t.  My fate and life may have changed that day, but I am thankful my mom’s story gets to continue.

4 thoughts on “**TRIGGER WARNING** Her SIDE of THINGS

  1. glad it’s better for all.
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    Liked by 1 person

  2. A tearful and courageous story, and superblly narrated with maturity well beyond her age … may your story of life continue .. 🤗🌏

    Liked by 1 person

  3. These attempts of suicide that we make, they’re, a cry for help, an, expression of, pain that we were, experiencing, and, these acts are, quite scary for those who are, closest to us to, experience.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My attempt wasn’t a cry for help. My attempt was to end my life. I should not be alive today according to medical science. If my attempt was a cry for help I would have done it in front of someone… Or I would have done it and then told someone what I had done before the medication had time to enter my blood stream… But I did none of these things. In fact, I went to an isolated location in the dark without telling anyone where I was going or for why…. Turned my cell phone off so GPS location could not be traced by my phone…. And I did not call/text/reach out to anyone for the hour I battled my depression alone in my car, before I started swallowing pill after pill.. I ingested prescription medication that night and took 3 times the lethal amount needed to effectively end my life…. Many many people have died who have taken much less than I did of the meds I took.

      I am Extremely fortunate and blessed that my life was spared! It hurts my whole heart that so many have not been as fortunate….. Because the moment I felt the chemicals enter my blood and I knew I couldn’t take it back …… I immediately regretted what I had done… This is why my intentions to share my story are so intense…. That instant of regret…. Had I known before I attempted that there would be so much regret… I might have reached out for help rather than follow through with trying to end my story too early… And I want others to know that regret BEFORE they make their final choice… Because it could be the deciding factor for them to make the choice to get help and to keep fighting!

      Thank you for sharing your sentiments on the topic and your own personal struggles/feelings dealing with suicidal thoughts/ideations or an attempt (?maybe).

      More people like you and I have to get our stories out there to start breaking the silence and ending the shame associated with suicide thanks to the rampant undesirable OUTDATED stigmas attached to thIS TOPIC and all topics surrounding mental health ❤

      Like

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