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The 6 Times I Was ‘Reborn’ as a Survivor of Abuse and Suicide

Editor's Note

If you experience suicidal thoughts or have lost someone to suicide, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741741.

If you’ve experienced sexual abuse or assault, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact The National Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline at 1-800-656-4673.

The first time I was born into this life, I was ripped from my mother’s flesh with the knife skimming my skin; I was given my first Band-Aid at only 20 minutes old.

The second time I was born into this life was when I was plunged undoubtedly and unwillingly into the #MeToo movement, head-first, at only 7 years old.

The third time I was born into this life was when my life almost ended at my own hand. I was rushed to the mental hospital for the first time at only 12 years old.

The fourth time I was born into this life was when I was crushed with diagnoses, prescriptions and pills galore. I had to swallow countless every day just to keep me alive. I was only 13 years old.

The fifth time I was born into this life was when all my secrets came pouring out of my mouth to my mom, whom I was afraid to lose — the first time I felt total forgiveness, when I was only 14 years old.

The sixth time I was reborn into this life was when, after eight more hospitalizations I had finally understood I needed to heal; there was no other option. I stopped running. I was only 15 years old.

The seventh time I was born into this life was when I finally internalized: suicide can never be the answer, for it’s not you who it affects.

Everyone around you will suffer. Your mother, who is still scared she is going to lose you; your father, whose jokes would slowly die out; your brother, who would never have an audience cheering and yelling when he plays his video games; and your dog, who would never stop waiting at the door for you to get home from school.

I realized I was going to be OK. I could get through this next day, hour and second. I was only 16 years old.

For now, I am 17, things slowly unraveling back to the happiness I had reluctantly accepted that I had lost years ago.

I am 17 and I still struggle, but I am reborn into this life again as a fresh start every day.

Now I am 17, going on with the rest of my life knowing the first time I was born into this life, at only 20 minutes old, I was given a Band-Aid; I still wear that bandage today, in my heart, as a sign that they didn’t give up on me. So, neither should I.

Photo by Bruce Mars on Unsplash

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