September is Suicide Prevention Month. If you are struggling, please reach out for help immediately. Here is just a little of my story about how I finally emerged from the darkness back into the light. Maybe it will encourage you if you are facing troubled times too.
A few days before Christmas 2002, the same year my father had died and my mother had hovered on the brink of a coma, my husband of twenty-two years looked across the living room at me and unceremoniously announced that he’d secretly lost every single penny of our savings, retirement, and investment funds on an ill-conceived business venture…and that he was leaving me and my daughter…to move across the country…to live with an old girlfriend…a former stripper…and her five children. Boom, Merry Christmas!
My ex-husband’s two-word declaration, “I’m leaving,” was like a Molotov cocktail tossed into the dead center of my life, blasting all I held dear into a zillion broken pieces. I was devastated to the point of paralysis, but I couldn’t afford to stay that way very long as full-blown destitution was on my doorstep. Not only had my ex-husband lost every penny of our money, but he also saddled me with about $100,000 of debt. I don’t suppose there is ever a good time to lose everything, but I can tell you that age forty-five is definitely not it.
For the next ten years, I never worked fewer than three jobs at a time and often as many as five—before work, after work, weekends, and holidays, including St. Swithin’s Day. I also sold everything I could—house, car, jewelry, the gold in my teeth. One night I even took an inventory of everything I had two of that I could list one of for sale. Blenders and can openers, as well as lungs and eyeballs. It’s possible I still have a kidney on eBay.
The stress and frantic pace eventually caught up with me and all aspects of my health began to deteriorate. Further complicating the situation was the rapid onset of an early menopause, bringing with it blinding migraines, inflamed joints, gastric distress, chronic insomnia, hair loss, unexplained weight gain, and depressed mood. Rounds of expensive tests ordered by expensive specialists left me with even more debt, yet little relief from my symptoms.
One particularly dark night, I hit my lowest point. With my ex-husband’s creditors threatening to take the little I had left and to sue me for future earnings, I broke down in panic and desperation, creating fertile ground for distorted thinking. Hands trembling, I checked my life insurance policy to verify it covered suicide. It did. For one fleeting, perverse moment, I believed that was the best I had to offer my college-aged daughter.
But, and it’s a critical “but,” I fought my way up from that low point and never allowed that twisted thinking to take root. Aside from pure grace, I think two factors helped me make it through the fire. One was my sense of humor, a powerful coping skill I instinctively knew was the strongest, and often the only, defense I had at my disposal. Finding small moments of laughter within the pain—even if it was laughing at the complete absurdity of my situation—helped me develop the resiliency I needed to survive and ultimately begin to thrive again. I jokingly reassured myself that I could never fall completely through the cracks because my hips wouldn’t fit. In every moment of laughter, I felt as if I were reclaiming an important piece of myself, of my spirit, that no one, neither my ex-husband nor Citibank, could take from me.
The other crucial factor was what I now call “the power of enough.” During this protracted period of crisis, I certainly didn’t appear to have “enough” of anything, not money, love, or security. At first, I prayed fervently for a dramatic rescue—like winning the lottery (preferably without even buying a ticket) or Superman turning back the hands of time. I was certain it would take an act that grand to save me. Obviously, the dramatic rescue never came.
What did come, though, was “enough”—an unexpected gift, a small refund check, or a few well-timed, uplifting words. Each time I really needed it, when all hope seemed gone, a little piece of “enough” came to me. I forgot about the big rescue and learned to appreciate each small drop of mercy that sustained me, sometimes from one minute to the next. The lens of gratitude has a magical way of magnifying the smallest bit of goodness until it is enough to cover your need.
I will leave you with this story about “the power of enough.”
My friend Kim and I met in fifth grade and we stayed close for the next forty years. In 1998, Kim was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer, which she battled for the next ten years. About midway through her battle, my crisis hit. One day I walked into work to find that my department was selling pink ribbon magnets in support of breast cancer awareness. I immediately thought of my friend Kim and how valiantly she was fighting. The magnets cost five dollars—all the money I had in my wallet to last me the next two weeks until I got paid again. One of our administrators, who didn’t know how desperate my situation was, called out to me and said, “C’mon, Lee, give me your five dollars.” I was so torn. Obviously, I wanted to buy one, but I also knew I would have absolutely no money left if I did. I handed her my five dollars, took my magnet, and walked away thinking, “This is for Kim.”
Driving home after work, I could think of nothing else but my empty wallet. I prayed aloud, more from panic than from faith, “God, what am I going to do?” When I got home, I found a card from Kim in the mail. It was a sweet card with a “hang in there” kind of message on the front that brought tears to eyes when I thought that, with all Kim was enduring, she still took time to send me a word of encouragement. I opened the card, and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Bending over to pick it up, I saw it was a check, a gift, for $500—one hundred times the amount I had paid for “Kim’s” magnet. I literally fell to my knees in tearful gratitude. That check obviously didn’t solve all my problems, but it was exactly “enough” to get me through the next few weeks.
If you are experiencing a difficult time in your life, know that you really can come out on the other side of it. It may take more time, sacrifice, and patience than you think you can muster, but you are stronger and more resilient than you know. Look for your own pieces of “enough” to hold onto and never hesitate to reach out for help. If you are battling depression, there are a host of medical and non-medical treatments available today. I found my way back to the light and you can too.