In Case You Need A Reminder To Live

Piece by piece I fall apart. Bit by bit life puts me back together — and then it rips me to shreds again. Somehow, I find strength to rise yet another time.

And then again,
and again,
and again.

Something makes me smile.
Someone tells me they’re glad to have me close in this lifetime.
An old man in the grocery store parking lot says the way I hit the lock to my car three times reminds him of his wife. My heart is warmed inside.

I find joy. Then, like a thief, sadness comes. It stays for a while, an unwanted guest, but soon it is on its way. I find joy again.

I find a reason to give tomorrow a chance.

My mind tells me I am not loved. The next day, someone gives me a hug that feels a lot like love. Someone thinks of me enough to text me good morning. I am reminded that I am here, seen even when my mind tells me I am not seen. Loved even when my mind tells me I am not loved. Necessary even when my mind tells me I am not necessary.

I meet a moment that feels like hope. Hope simmers, and then it returns — only for me to realize it never really left, just became masked by fear that things would never really change. Change comes, eventually. One day I look back and realize that I made it to the other side of my prayers. I continue praying, continue making it through.

I feel a lot like weight, like a burdening to others. My mind tells me I need to be stronger for everyone but myself. I start to believe it — that I don’t matter. That my strength is for the comfort of others. I give myself permission to unfold, to be weak. True healing then begins. I greet her with open arms. I cry into a silent night, mouth gaping — yet no sound. I believe that God still hears me here.

I experience hard things that I never think I’ll get through. I get through them. Whether days or weeks, months or years — I become removed from the grief those things once brought.

Then I go through harder things, and I remember the strength I had to get through the things I never thought I’d be able to. I remember in those moments, being weak was my passage. Leaning into the sadness, into the hard things. Charging the storm.

The storm passes. Then it comes again. This time, I learn how to dance in the rain. I learn how to speak in tongues. I learn how to breathe. I walk on water. I look around at the winds, and for a moment I begin to sink. Fear settles in. Then I set my eyes back on glory. Peace returns.

Someone asks me what is wrong. I point to my heart. I point inside. To feel, to love as she does, is to ache, to break constantly. Sometimes it feels like a curse. Some moments I’ve tried to cut a hole into my chest. But then I remember that she keeps me beating, dancing to the rhythm of my own drum.

I dance, bom, to the rhythm, bom, I bend, bom, and move my arms like holy water, bom.

One moment, I cry. I curse. I fall on my knees. The next moment, I laugh. I rejoice. I tilt my head up towards the sun. It is a cycle, long as my heart beats, it is a tango.

Morning turns into what feels like a perpetual night. I begin to think it’ll be this way forever. Then a reminder comes, that darkness is only an eclipse of light. The greater the light, the greater the labor of darkness.

So I go to war, clawing from the inside out to find my light again. She is there. I see her if I pay attention, if I look closely. In my eyes. In my smile. In the freckles on the back of my hands that remind me of my mother’s. She is always there.

I ponder on the choice to die. And then I ponder on the choice to live.

All of this is a reminder that I’ll never know what the next second, minute, hour, day, week, month, or year may bring. It’s a reminder to keep going. So I will, step by step. One foot in front of the other if I am walking. One hand and knee in front of the other if I am crawling. One prayer to the next if I cannot bear physical movement. But I keep going — and so should you.

---

September is Suicide Prevention Month. For anyone who struggles with or has ever struggled with suicidal thoughts, this is for you. This piece was written from a place of realizing that so many beautiful things in life happen, and acknowledging that if I never gave myself the opportunity to get to another day, there would be so many beautiful things I would have never experienced or witnessed. Easier said than done, but please… keep going.

If you need support: 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.