Dead Alive; My Story Part 2

Each revolution of the cycle of self destruction goes deeper. The reason is because we become no longer satisfied with the previous cycles and seek even more destructive ones. Eventually I was left with two choices. The first was either commit suicide and end the pain or... fight to live and get the help and knowledge I needed to break out of the chaotic cycle I was coping with.

Emotions create powerful chemicals in the brain to control the pain. Eventually the brain can not keep up with it all and the pain becomes unmanageable. That is where medications become useful. The meds takes the edge off. But it does not take away the internal anguish. It only controls the symptoms of the underlying problem.

The pain must be released... but how did I do it without losing my sanity or everyone else's around me?  After many trips to
hospitals; each trip released more of this pain and each time I was getting healthier. The journals I wrote became a map of my trip out of the black depression I was wrestled with. Before I started journaling, I drew pictures. I sat on the floor of my living room or bedroom and focused on feeling as young as I could remember. By sitting on the floor, I felt smaller while everything seemed larger to me; just as I would as a child. I had a large notebook and lots of crayons. I turned on classical music because there were no lyrics, and I relaxed and listened a few minutes. I then drew whatever came to mind. Perhaps nothing did... but I drew meaningless colors... before long the pain surfaced and those colors became flashes which then inspired scenes in my mind surfacing the unconscious and buried anger and grief that under lied below the depression or whatever I was experiencing.

The second fear I had was the fear of failure. I feared success and I feared failing! I was fighting to live while praying to die!!! I can't tell you the many times that I held a 45 cal pistol in my mouth, contemplating pulling the trigger and instead, chose to writhe in the pain and live! After many brushes with death, I came to realize that as much as I wanted to die; deep down I kept hoping things would get better tomorrow. But even at this deep cycle... I tested my fate more and more seriously each time. There is a book called "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plaith.; she died in this manner. God is with me... even on the darkest nights while I played rehearsals with a gun.

A long time ago someone told me that it is the people who have been through hell that make tomorrow's leaders. The experiences that you and I share can affect many; many untouchables that could not otherwise be counseled because the best counselors are the ones who have learned about life the hard way and not by some textbook!

With this thought in mind, I had to realize that maybe, just maybe, if I resisted this darkness long enough to fight for the hope; then the sorrow and grief in my life will have purpose. For by them I hoped to gain the humble acceptance that other's like myself could use someone like me to reach them in ways that no one else ever could. It is this hope that gave my life new meaning and purpose.  "Diamonds are only created in coal under intense heat and pressure. We can stay the way we are and die young and be buried at 70 or eventually kill ourselves; or we can writhe in the fires and be purified from it."

My road out of this nightmare began with finding a good hospital where I felt safe enough to express myself. I had to have the courage to trust people. But insurance companies will not let most stay there long enough to get the help desperately needed. So repeated trips need followed; for most on an annual plan. The good hospitals were the Minerith Meyer Clinics which can be contacted through or 1-800-new-life. Most of these counselors were unlike any I had ever experienced. They cared because they walked the same path that I was on and not by some textbook you read in college. My visits were rigorous from sun up to sun down. Unlike many public hospitals that keep you in waiting for your 15 min session each day. New Life is a privately run Christian network. When I was in their hospitals I tested them. I carved; I electrocuted and hanged myself. I was living as a practicing Satanist and they all believed in God. But they would not give up on me. Three nurses cried when they saw me lying on the floor after a failed suicide attempt. They each held my hands and prayed over me; how many counselors would care enough to pray with you rather than give lip service? I looked in their eyes... and I felt as if someone really loved me for the first time and I started to melt away and trust them. But it was too late. My time was up and the insurance company said I had to go. So I never got the help I craved so bad for ever again till many years later.


In February of 2006 I had another suicide attempt by overdosing on tranquilizers. I did not have my gun any more because my mentors from church took it away from me; and then in September I tried it again with anti-depressants. I came to realize that I really did not want to die. I wanted to end the emotional pain. I ended up in a coma a few weeks ago after that last attempt. It was a close call. I am currently hooked up with a very loving and supportive church called "The Vineyard". They really care and hug me and stuff like I never had before. I get teary eyed when I think about it now. But I am slowly recovering. I am letting people help me. This is something I was trained as a child never to do. But you know... as I let people into my life... it is starting to feel good. I am no longer as numb as I once felt. I still cry a lot. But crying is helping me get the poison out.

God sees me and grieves with me in my hopelessness. My journey back to Christianity came slowly. It took people who loved me by action and not by lip service to begin the process. There are people who mentor me now and teach me what a healthy family is supposed to be like. Some even treat me as one of their own kids. It is humbling to be honored in this way.


I had this dream one night;

 I saw myself as a young child being held in Jesus' loving arms in patience as I screamed and beat His chest again and again with my fists. And yet He held me until I had no strength left. I was comforted in that dream. Many people see God as through the eyes of a child before an angry parent. The image of God becomes distorted because as abused children of physical authorities in our lives they come to see God as some abusive or careless perfectionist tyrant as their parents were to
them. The only way to learn who God is is by searching for answers.

To let the past go... I have to learn to forgive everyone who hurt me. Not because they deserve it. But because by handing what they did to me over to God I can walk away a free man.

This is a process:

Forgiveness is like an onion. I have to peel off a layer at a time. Each layer gets smellier and stronger. Eventually I will get to the core and maybe some day put my past at peace. I am not healed yet. I wonder if I ever will be. I have to surround myself around healthy and positive people. That is why I had to cut my family off in my life. Our family is not healthy and does nothing to support me.

When Rhonda and I broke up ten years ago; I was a mess. All the dreams we shared together were shattered. Many of the problems in our marriage could have been avoided. The biggest problem was that we failed to talk to each other. People if your marriage is in trouble... please... remember your both best friends... you got to trust each other and really try to talk!!! And if you really want to move forward... one of you has to be strong enough to forgive the other... and both of you need to remember to be accountable for your actions because you are hurting each other.



I am still that hurt child hiding in the closet down in the basement in Ft. Thomas. I was the altar boy at St. Catherine's that stared back into the stained glass windows and wondered in awe at the dancing colors on the pews. I was the same kid... that many never knew... would spend long hours there after school reading every book in the library; in search for a hungry solution in my life. And I was the same kid that rode a ten speed over a hundred miles to Columbus to be with a group of people who loved me for who I was and not for what I could do for them.



A note to some of the Christians out there:


When you see someone carving up their bodies... you do not know the dark secrets they carry. Just know that the Lord pays particular attention to unwanted children... and the adult children whose bodies age but their minds are still reeling from the pain of the skeletons that still rattle in the closets of their minds. It is not of the devil... when they carve... they do it to feel physical pain so that they do not go insane dealing with the mental stuff. I remember writhing in bed many nights in warm soaked sheets from all the tears of despair I shed. I attempted suicide four times, been in fourteen mental hospitals... and you know... despite what many think... if I would have died... my blood would cry out like Abel's did in the garden of Eden... I was innocent and those who would drive me to death would have committed the act because death was preferable than the insanity of the abuse that I endured.

I cling to this hope in Psalms 27:10-14. That I will not have to go to the land of the dead to find resolution... but wait on God to find it in the land of the living. I am healing a little more; day by day. I have not arrived yet... the fight to live continues on.

My vision:


"Tomorrow's greatest leaders will always be today's strongest survivors. The harder and meaner life gets... the more beautiful is the diamond in the making. Diamonds are rare... but a lump a coal is not. Effective leaders must be purified through the fires of great testing to stand fast against the wiles of the Devil. And trust me... if you survive, then Satan's kingdom will quake to the foundation once you are liberated fromyour hellish life... because you will know a heck of a lot more than those who skimped by in the comforts of this world. And it will be you one day that God will use to influence thousands if not millions around the world that others could not touch."




onefinefeller onefinefeller
46-50, M
5 Responses Jul 21, 2010

tgcindi; It is a battle to deal with depression; I still struggle with it. I have to fight every day to keep my chin up because if I falter; It will lead to my death one day. <br />
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I sense your pain. I hope and pray you can hang on. When I help others I find purpose to go on; I am encouraged when others heal. When I isolate; death knocks on my door.

One can only hope to find the strength and peace that you did, before it's too late. <br />
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Even now, I feel my time is drawing near, and it's become a question of "when and how" instead of "IF".<br />
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I only wish I was the type who could belive in a merciful God.

tnmama; hang in there. Take it day by day; hour by hour, minute by minute. If you want to chat with me about it send me a pm and I will listen. Jonathan

I cried through your story. I have struggled years with depression and suicide. I love the Lord, but I'm not strong enough to overcome this. Thank you for your honesty!

=) Thanks.