I remember how dazed I was the first few weeks after I finally called it quits with the first ex. Waking up with nothing to look forward to. Floating from sleep to work, unmindful of whether I might get killed by the speeding cars as I walk to the office. Come to think of it, at that time, somehow, I knew I wished for it. For me to get hit by some random car. For me to suffer some freak accident. For things to just end.
At that time, it was ok for everything to stop... just. like. that.
It was the second day of the retreat and we were told to remain silent throughout the activities. No good mornings, no thank yous. Just silence. Our only respite was the customary sharegroup right after each lecture and testimonial. Surprisingly, I found myself intently listening to my newfound friends, comrades who by God's hands found themselves asking my very questions at that particular juncture in their lives.
"What was she thinking right before she jumped?" Paula shared. She narrated how one of her friends took her own life. How a security guard manning their building saw her idling time on the rooftop. How the moment after, she took that jump and willed everything to stop.
"Was she sad? Was she hurting? Were her thoughts a blank? Or maybe she was enjoying the view?" Twisted, but suddenly I recognized that calm of taking in the view. Looking into the sunset and then bidding the world goodbye. She could have been stronger, I thought. What if she held on a little longer? What if?
And then I remembered the testimonial earlier that morning: "The pleasure of taking my own life was far greater than the pain of living the next moment."
At that very instance, I took out my pen and scribbled a thank you. Thank you Lord for not letting me sink that low. For holding on to me a little longer.
Otherwise, I won't be where I'm at today.