The Day I Almost Didn’t Stay
September is Suicide Prevention Month, and today, World Suicide Prevention Day, I want to share something I’ve never forgotten: the season in middle school when I almost didn’t stay.
I had grown up believing that my life had no value, and I wasn’t worth anyone loving me or showing me that they cared. It wasn’t safe for me to be the real me. I wore a mask every day from the moment I woke up until I closed my eyes at night.
One day, I decided I didn’t want to be here anymore. I thought that no one would really miss me; it would be easy for everyone to move on without me in this world. I wasn’t trying to get attention. I wasn’t trying to scare anyone. I just wanted the pain to stop. So I wrote my own goodbye letters to my boyfriend, my parents, and my friends. I packed a bag, set it by my bike, and planned to disappear forever.
But something happened I didn’t expect: my mom came home early. (Thank you, God) She found one of the letters—ironically, not mine, but one from my boyfriend, begging me not to go through with my plan to end my life. That night, instead of anger or lectures, she took me to dinner.
I can still remember sitting across from her, awkward and quiet, as she told me she loved me and how crushed she’d be if I were gone. It wasn’t a big speech, but it was real. That simple moment, eating my favorite breakfast restaurant food and a few honest words, was a turning point. Things weren’t magically fixed, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like she truly loved me. Maybe it wasn’t healing yet, but it was a pause. A breath of fresh air. A reminder that even in the silence, God sees me.
Not long after that, I opened up a little to my English teacher. I didn’t share fully what I had planned before, but I did share that I hated my life. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was enough for her to see I was drowning. She handed me a journal and gave me an assignment: every day, write three things I liked about myself or my life.
At first, it felt impossible. I stared at that blank page thinking, Lady, I can’t even think of one, let alone three. But I kept at it. Slowly, writing became more than homework; it became my therapy. and my safe space. The place where I could say the things I didn’t know how to speak out loud. Even back then, God was planting the seed of something He knew I’d need later. The words, the writing, and the healing that comes when you pour your heart onto a page.
Looking back, I realize that what felt like the end was really the beginning of God’s rescue. He used a dinner with my mom. A teacher with a journal. A pen on a blank page. They didn’t fix everything overnight, but they reminded me that the story wasn’t over.
Here’s what I want you to know if you’re reading this and the pain feels too loud: your life matters. Pauses matter. A meal, a conversation, or even one shaky sentence in a journal can interrupt the darkness. God sees you. I mean, He really sees you. And even if you don’t feel Him, He has not walked away.
The Bible doesn’t mention the word suicide directly, but it does give us truth to hold onto when despair feels overwhelming:
Life is valuable. “You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.” (Psalm 139:13–14)
Jesus came to give life. “My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.” (John 10:10)
God is close to the hurting. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” (Psalm 34:18)
Nothing can separate us from God’s love. (Romans 8:38–39)
Forgiveness and salvation are through Jesus (Ephesians 2:8–9), not through the way someone dies. God’s heart is full of mercy, and His love never fails, even in our darkest moments.
Suicide is not the answer, but if you’ve ever had those thoughts, it doesn’t make you weak or unworthy. It means you’re human, carrying more pain than you were meant to carry alone.
A Song for Your Heart
If you need a reminder that God’s presence changes everything, listen to “In the Room” (feat. Tasha Cobbs Leonard). Let it wash over you. Let it remind you that when Jesus is in the room, hope walks in, chains fall, and light breaks through.
If you’re struggling right now, please don’t carry it alone. Call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. Reach out to a trusted friend, a pastor, a teacher, or someone who will listen. And if all else fails, grab a notebook and start writing. Sometimes, the smallest step is the bravest one.
Check out these resources as well:
Pine Rest Christian Mental Health Services
You’re not alone. You are loved. And your story isn’t finished.
Tell me in the comments what’s one small thing that has helped you pause and breathe on hard days?
