Dear Everyone or Almost Everyone,

I'll be honest, I'm writing about suicide. I'm going to be writing about my personal experience with suicide and one of my experiences with God.

I started getting depressed, maybe in 2011. But I didn't really pay attention, because I was just trying to have fun and be the perfect girl, which I felt I needed to be, but had failed so many times.

The first time time I thought of suicide, was also in 2011. But when that thought first came, I thought, "No, that is crazy. I'm not going to do that." And so I pushed that particular, dark thought somewhere in the back of my head.

But then in 2012, I got even more depressed. During that time, I was constantly worried about my mother, money, my school. I was worried about life. I was angry, stressed, guilty and sad, almost everyday. I didn't really know what happy, truly meant.

I tried taking my family's and other people's burdens, because I didn't like that they had burdens upon them, and i was willing to take the burden as long they didn't have it. But when I tried doing that, I was also trying not to be a burden to others, but I thought I still was. I am willing to take the burdens of the people I love and know, because I don't like seeing them hurt.

But that was, I guess too much of a burden for me; a little girl at that time, who tried to do that almost all her life. I knew that, as I started getting older, but I didn't want to admit that and I still have a hard time admitting it, because I still do it.

At that same time in the year of 2012, I became a Christian, a few weeks after my 12th birthday. We were celebrating my birthday, with friends and family. It was all fun, but I wasn't really having fun celebrating my birthday.

I was angry at one of my parents, because one of them didn't tell me happy birthday and has not for awhile. Because when that parent did tell me happy birthday, it was either a very late greeting, or never telling me happy birthday at all. I was angry and tired at one of my parents, because to me, that parent didn't really try to be a part of my life.

I felt like I couldn't do anything. I felt too tired, angry, and just all in all, it was a very bad combination of negative feelings, mixed together. But then . . .
I know some of ya'll don't believe there's a God at all, or if there is a God, then that He's lazy or stupid. But this is just what I believe that is true, and I don't believe He's stupid or lazy; He is far from that.

I believe there is a God. A God who loves all of us so, so, so much and who loves everyone of us, equally. A God who will never leave us, who will always be faithful to us, even when we are unfaithful to Him. A God who is our God, who is our Dada, and who has saved your and my life before and still does. A God who I gave my life to on the month of April, in the year of 2012.

But even when I gave my life to Him, I was still afraid, I was still a package of negative feelings, mixed in a bad combination. It was in the year of 2013, I started getting stronger in my faith in Jesus Christ. When I started trusting Him, loving Him, and believing in Him more, but somehow . . . I was still afraid, and I had not truly given all of my life, to Him.

Because in the year of 2014, I still allowed doubt to sometimes creep in and sit on my shoulders; whispering in my ears. I sometimes still allowed Depression, to be my best friend. And in that same year, I started flirting with Death; and that just made Depression come over, even more.

Again two years later, in the year of 2014, on the month of April and my birthday, I thought to myself, "I had enough."
"I hurt too many people. I'm just a burden. I'm always a bother. I can never, ever do anything right or helpful. I'm not important."

A few weeks after my birthday, I was thinking those thoughts. I was washing the dishes, as I was thinking. Then a knife was in my hands; a kitchen knife that was dull, but still sharp enough to feel feel the pain; and still sharp enough to be able to kill myself.

I looked at the knife and that time, I didn't recognize who was staring back at me. Because all I saw was a stranger, that I barely knew. I didn't know, who that stranger was.

And as I looked at the knife and these thoughts swirled in my head, another thought popped in my head; a dark thought that welcomed itself.
"I could end this. I could just end this all. Then people would be better off without me. I would no longer, be a burden; a bother. I could . . . I could . . . "

The thoughts we're getting stronger, and I was losing control of my mind; of myself. And the knife rising to my throat, when something stopped me. At that time I didn't know, what that "something" was.

I stopped with the knife in the air, not sure what had happened. And again, I though to myself, "I could end this."

I raised the knife, a little higher, so close. And again, someone stopped me. I realized then, God stopped me. And I lowered the knife, shocked and numbed.
After that and as I was in bed, I cried. I cried in my pillow, my cries silent yet at the same time, not silent. And I thanked God and I still do, for stopping me from killing myself. Because God stopped me from taking my own life.

Know this, you are important. You are loved and cared for, for so much. You are noticed, even if it doesn't seem like it. Someone loves you, someone will hold onto you, even if you tell them or ask them to let you go, because they truly love you.

Each and everyone of you has a greatness inside of you; a gift, a talent. You are special. You are beautiful. Do no listen to anyone, who tells you otherwise, because they are wrong. Very, very wrong. Because you are.

You're truly wonderful, each and everyone of you. Each of you, all amazing. Because you're you; and you being you, is powerful and beautiful.