I thought I had reached the end of the sentence. A period finally. An end to my pain and existence. Another collection of empty medication containers and an empty bottle of gatorade. Nothing but silence in the night and plans of never waking up. But God had a different plan. He placed a semi-colon at the end of my sentence and I continue on.

One month in the psychiatric hospital leaves a lot of time to think. A lot of regret, a lot of anger, a lot of questions. And finally a sigh of relief. A mistake interrupted. Its strange how I could go from pure trust in God to complete and utter failure in my choices. My mind was taken over by an illness that I dont even understand. An illness that has death chasing me biting at my heels. One that the enemy keeps playing his tricks on.

I surprised the ER doctors. No damage to my liver or kidneys whatsoever. A miracle they say. Chasing one pill after another to the count of over a hundred and fifty should have killed me. But God is not finished with me yet I guess. The story continues.

I am back at home. No hourly night checks. No showing the nurses that I haven’t “cheeked” my pills at medication time. No contraband. No patients yelling and cursing in confusion and fear. No cold, sterile room with a 2 minute daily visit by my psychiatrist. No listening to the tick of the second hand to the beat of my heart. No seemingly pointless groups with a social worker trying to read what I am feeling underneath my blank face. No constant chatter and ringing phones in the nurses station all day. I am home now. Tears are all dried up. The room is warm. My family is near. My cats are curled up at the foot of my bed. And the air smells of my perfume. Safe and warm listening to “You Say” by Lauren Daigle.

Walking the straight and narrow is hard with so many distractions in my head. Mental illness is just that. A constant barrage of painful distractions that are ever so tempting at times. The devil’s playground. I am writing this for the next time. I am not foolish enough to believe there won’t ever be a “next time”. I hope there wont be but I can never say for certain.

I don’t know why one person is allowed to heaven early and another has to suffer more in this world until that day. All I know is I am alive now. What comes after the semi-colon I haven’t a clue. Everything has been upheaved. I am waiting for the dust to settle and get my bearings back. This blog will be my reminder. Tomorrow is another day. And God still has more work to do. My story continues as God completes what he started. The semi-colon stands. There are no mistakes from my God. Only a weak human who stumbles in darkness that is self imposed. Tonight I will leave this as my prayer. Keep me safe Lord. Keep me safe from myself. Keep me on the right road to you. Amen.

Published by: jeni

I am a person who loves Jesus Christ more than anything. I also suffer with Schizoaffective disorder. These two things run tandem in my life and I could not deal with the latter without the former. My complete trust in God will help me through anything. I believe this 100%. Trials come and go but the Lord is omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent. What more could I ask for? I am blessed by my redeemer. Through thick and thin I know in my soul that God’s got this.

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2 thoughts on ““Semi-Colon…””

  1. I am so glad to see you blogging and hear that you’re okay. I have been through the suicide attempts and hospitalizations and I can totally empathize with you. It is a terrible feeling and recovery isn’t always easy. I pray for you every day, though, and trust that God will get us where we need to be. Schizoaffective disorder is cruel and heartless but our God is good. Take care of yourself. One day at a time.


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