The Suicide Solution

  We are always so quick to look for red flags in other people. In relationships, in friendships, in the workplace, we've become almost hyper-vigilant about spotting warning signs in those around us.  But what about ourselves? When I wake up feeling down, or "off," or just out of sorts, those are red flags for me. And just like any other red flag, they deserve attention. The problem is that most of us were never taught to look inward. We were taught to react, to the world around us, to other people, to circumstances. Turning that awareness back on yourself is actually a skill, and like any skill, it takes practice. The first thing I do when I notice that something feels off is think about what I'm thinking about. It sounds simple, almost too simple, but you'd be surprised how often that's exactly where the answer is hiding. A worry you've been pushing aside. A conversation that didn't sit right. An expectation you didn't realize you were carrying. ...

  About six months ago, I somehow injured my rotator cuff. It has cost me time, money, energy, my peace, and my sleep. It has been a long, frustrating journey. I just finished five weeks of physical therapy. I am far from healed, and I have to keep doing exercises every other day. I am still in pain and still can't sleep well, even though both of those things are slowly getting better. Yesterday, I realized something. I have to do my shoulder stretches even when my shoulder feels better. Even on my best days with it, I have to stretch and ice it. Every single day. If I skip it, I suffer greatly, sometimes setting myself back for days. My mental health is exactly the same way. I must be mindful of the thoughts I am thinking. I must do self-care consistently, not just when I'm struggling. I have to pay attention to what I am putting into my mind, what music am I listening to? What podcasts and books am I consuming? Am I moving my body every day? Am I getting some sunshine, even i...

Suicidal thoughts aren’t the problem. They’re pain with nowhere to go. When pain has nowhere to go, it turns inward. It gets louder. Heavier. Harder to carry. And eventually, it starts to feel like the only way out is to end it. What if the answer isn’t to end your life… but to give your pain somewhere to go? You don’t need to solve everything today. If this resonates, here are a few places you can go next: This Is Who The Suicide Solution Is For The Life I Almost Missed Healing, Help, and the Meds That Keep Us Here She Was a Teenager Living With a Suicidal Mom—What She Said Hit Me Like a Freight Train

I remember my first car. For my 16th birthday, my brother bought me a big ass station wagon. It was everything to me. He paid $300 cash for that car for his little sister. I grew up with a father who refused to help my mom clothe and feed me while she worked two jobs my entire life just trying to support me. I went without clothes that fit. I went without food. I vividly remember us being completely out of food. Or… so I thought. We had one single piece of bread left. My mom got it out and gave it to me. I took that piece of bread, tore it in half, and gave the other half back to her. In that moment, I was so grateful. Grateful for my mom. Grateful for that half piece of bread. Grateful that I had food at all. I watched my mom buy shitty cars because that was all she could afford. They would break down, and my big brother would fix them. But somewhere deep within me, I knew… I would be the one. I would be driven. I would find my way. I would break generational curses. ...

I wasn’t raised to have a relationship with God — I was raised to fear Him above all else. Fear of failing. Fear of sinning. Fear of doubting. Fear of hell. Fear of being “wrong.” Fear of existing outside the lines someone else drew for me. I used to think all that fear was God. Every panic attack I had — I thought it was conviction. Every intrusive thought — I thought it was spiritual warfare. Every sense of dread — I thought it was God keeping score. But the older I got, the clearer it became: It wasn’t God punishing me. It was trauma wearing a Bible verse as a disguise. I was taught to pray harder instead of feel my feelings. Taught to “take every thought captive” instead of question anything. Taught that suffering meant I was holy, but joy meant I was distracted. Taught to trust pastors more than my own intuition. Taught to fear the God who supposedly loved me. And when you’re raised like that, fear becomes the air you breathe. You don’t even know you’re dro...

  I want to be real about something a lot of people tiptoe around — medication . Not long ago, I decided to come off my last one. I told myself I was strong enough. Aware enough. Healed enough. But the truth? It was a terrible idea. At first, I felt okay. Then the fog rolled in — slow, quiet, sneaky. In a matter of just five days, I was a complete mess. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t hold it together. And I’m not even a very emotional person. Motivation disappeared. My energy vanished. And before I even realized it, those dark thoughts started creeping back in. I felt ashamed. Like needing help meant I had somehow failed at healing. But that’s bullshit . Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is say, “This isn’t working anymore.” And sometimes the strongest move you’ll ever make is going back on the thing that keeps you here. I’m still not 100% my old self again. But I’m showing up. And that’s enough for today. If you’re struggling to find ba...