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Three reasons for hope It was 2 a.m. After finishing my last good-bye note, I took 175 sleeping pills and painkillers, prayed for forgiveness and switched off the light.
If you had told me eight years earlier that someday I’d
attempt suicide, I would have laughed. My husband Randall and I were blessed
with financial comfort, a beautiful home and Then I contracted severe chronic fatigue syndrome and painful fibromyalgia. Two years later, Randall had a major stroke and we both lost our jobs. I grew more and more ill, eventually becoming bed-bound, unable to feed or bathe myself. Eventually, I lost hope and began looking for a way out. I told myself, “There’s no sense staying in a world where I can’t contribute and where I only suffer.” I stockpiled prescription drugs and contemplated what I’d write to each of my loved ones. The night I took the pills, relief washed over me. Soon my suffering would be over. I fell into a relaxed sleep, comforted by the thought that there would be no more struggle. The next morning, I awoke groggy with medication to see the sun streaming through my window and stunned that 175 pills hadn’t killed me. “Maybe they just need more time to work,” I thought. I spent most of the day in a drugged stupor. Randall lay beside me, encircling me in his arms. I managed to conceal my rapid, shallow breathing from him. The following morning my liver went into crisis. Vomiting and wracked with pain, I could no longer hide what I’d done. Randall rushed me to the hospital. My liver fought to survive; I wanted to die. When the doctor told me I would make it, I was furious with God. “What is my purpose here – just to suffer?” The following summer was the strangest period of my life. As I struggled with deep physical and spiritual battles, God’s answers to prayer kept rolling in. By autumn, I saw glimmers of hope and felt the desire to try moving forward. As I look back over my life, I realize there had been reasons for hope all along. These reasons for hope remain constant in my life — and they are true for all of us.
1. New solutions may be right over the horizon At one point, I developed sleep apnea. A flap of tissue began obstructing my airways, waking me throughout the night gasping for air and gripped with the fear of suffocation. I tried everything. Randall searched for new pillows while I tried different sleeping positions. Nothing worked. I was fitted with a sleep mask designed to force air into my lungs. No help. I resorted to surgery, but even that failed. After two years, things began to look quite grim. I had no more ideas, no more answers. I felt desperate — would fear and pain haunt me for the rest of my life? Then something changed. The fibro began to make my outer ear ache whenever I slept sideways on my pillow. A massage therapist recommended using a donut-shaped pillow to protect my ear during sleep. The results were startling — I awoke the next morning refreshed. Her recommendation had solved both problems — my ear pain was gone and the breathing struggles had vanished! Today when I can’t find an answer, I remember that a solution may lie in my future, even if I can’t see it at the moment.
In 2002, a fibro flare-up caused severe pain and tightness in the muscles of my head, neck and chest. Each time I swallowed, the muscle network would tighten, causing increasing pain. By 5 p.m. every day, my chest muscles would be so tight I’d have to forcefully inhale in order to breathe. By bedtime, my pain level was off the scale. I was bedridden and unable to see a medical specialist. My discouragement turned to depression. After the suicide attempt, I’d vowed to take three action steps if I ever sank that low again. And it was time. Taking the first step — social connection — I called a friend with an infectious laugh. As I talked and laughed with her, I could feel my spirits lifting. For the second action step — starting a new activity — I began writing a magazine article. Because of my condition, I could manage only a few sentences each day. Yet putting myself and my emotions into my writing felt good. Then, I began the third step — creating an “anticipation schedule.” I ordered a reading tray designed especially for bed-bound people and subscribed to a new magazine. I scheduled a catch-up visit with a friend. The juices were beginning to flow again. Each time the depression returned, I used my action steps. Still I found the darkness would persist and I turned to prayer and scripture: “Do not fear, for I am with you…I will strengthen you and help you” (Isaiah 41:10). I was not in control — God was — and that was okay. Often, it seemed I was making no progress. But God was work from within and I made the decision to trust when I couldn’t see the path ahead. That trust was taking root, anchoring me. Little by little, I found peace and hope in my quiet life. The clouds were lifting and I was becoming whole again. 3. Meaning and purpose will be revealed At times it was hard to understand why I was here. Bedridden and in pain, I kept asking God, “What do you want from me — what is my purpose?” Then in 2001, my article on coping strategies for the severely ill was published in the CFIDS Chronicle. This project was a physical struggle and an accomplishment, but somehow it wasn’t enough. “Please show me this has made a difference.” In the following issue of the Chronicle, a reader commented, “I deal with many of the same feelings and physical challenges as the writer. It is comforting to hear that I am not alone. Her courage is an inspiration to keep going on.” His letter showed me the reality of God’s promise in Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you…plans to give you a future with hope.” I began to see glimpses of God’s plans for me. Writing about my struggles often brings emotional pain. But I now see that I can best reach others when my writing becomes fully real. Each of us has the capacity to become “wounded healers.” My own adversities have deepened my life and have made me a teacher. By making my wounds visible — not sources of complaint, but as examples of healing — I can offer hope of renewal to others. It’s been a number of years since I downed those pills. Today I know that my time on earth is precious, and I’ve got a lot of living to do! I don’t know when I’ll walk that shining path, but it is comforting to know that while I’m here on earth, I have three reasons for hope. Rebecca Becker-Bean is a freelance writer who lives in New Jersey. She is presently enjoying a continuing path to recovery. Resources for Help: Find out more about suicide and how to help yourself or your loved ones cope with suicidal feelings. The websites listed below may provide you with helpful information on depression/suicidal symptoms, preventive action steps and coping strategies. Suicide Awareness\Voices of Education (SA\VE) provides information on symptoms of depression, suicide warning signs and common misconceptions. http://www.save.org/ Psychology Today provides regional referrals to licensed psychologists. http://www.psychologytoday.com/
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