Keep Running Up That Hill
A week ago, in New Orleans, I wandered up to the rooftop of my hotel planning to end it all right there. For a long time, I just sat there thinking about everything. I came to the conclusion that I wasn't certain that I was ready to go. I've been depressed for a few years and thought of suicide often. However, I found the tiniest, simplest reason to live: why not. Sure it hurts, but eventually life will be worth living. Since that day, and a few other failed attempts (I never completely went through with it) things have turned around. In the face of my depression I wear a smile now, I let myself be happy, which has seemed impossible for years. I finally decided to fight back. My biggest mistake was never reaching out for help, and there were many times that I nearly ended my life. I am so thankful that I didn't. There is still a long, long road ahead of me, but at least now I am walking in the right direction. My fight has not been nearly as difficult as some of yours, I'm certain, and I admire all of your strength. We are the survivors of a cruel disease, and hopefully there will be a day when we take back our lives.