I have taken my kid's father away. I have hurt the love of my life and will never be allowed to tell her how I feel. I have caused my Mother, Father and Sisters to worry about me way too much. I have also caused a few friends a lot of heartache as they went out of their way to help me.
I am eternally grateful to my friends for the support they have given me. They have seen me at my complete lowest point of my life and stood by me to show me the way out of that dark place. My family was there holding me back up and leading me up. Because of them I have tried hard to make myself better. It's a constant, and I mean constant struggle to find reasons to stay here.
I'd hate to admit this but there was no pain when I cut my neck. No pain as it healed. No pain except for the emptiness in my heart. No pain except for the weight of regret loading down my shoulders. No pain except for the hot tears that don't seem to stop pouring from my eyes at the thought of my children. No pain except for the sight of the love of my life at the opposite table during a court hearing. How can something that caused no pain be causing me so much pain.
I let this happen. I let someone control my life and make me feel worthless. Worthless. Better off dead. Better to end my life then continue being hurt again and again. No wonder there was no pain in suicide. I was already in so much pain. I was exhausted. I tried over and over again to make things right. To make them work. To prove myself to someone else. I used my reserves and then some. I put on a happy face at work and continued to be full of life as my life was being eroded away with a constant stream of insults.
I clung to my kids. I only felt good when I was with them. I only felt joy when I was doing something with or for my kids. They are my life. My empty life. I've failed. failed failed failure failure. I failed as a husband. I've failed as a father. I've failed as a son. a friend. a Sailor. I've failed my God and tried to commit the ultimate unforgivable sin. I've shown everyone that I'm a failure. Why did God protect me? What is the reason? Is this a form of hell? Am I as dead as I feel? Being without my kids and wife is my personal hell. Losing all respect at work is a lesser hell.
My kids. My angels. I've failed you. I swore to protect you and I failed. I've taken myself from your life in a fit of insanity. I've allowed a depressed, desperate and crazed man to take your father from you. I don't expect you to forgive me. I know I'm not going to forgive myself. This is hell. Knowing that I can't feel the warmth of your hugs is dragging me back down every second of every day. Knowing that I cannot shield you from pain is causing me to cry over and over again. I've failed.
I didn't mean to hurt anyone else. I am grateful that no-one else was physically injured when I tried to commit suicide. I was not myself. It's hard to stomach the emotional pain I have caused my family. I wish I could make it go away. I wish I could. I wish. I pray it goes away. I'm not sure if God is listening. I feel that he is. I feel that he guided my hand as I tried to take my life. He protected me as I threw my life and my soul away. Did he feel that it wasn't my time? Did he feel my pain and pick me up and carry me as I cried out in emotional pain and tried to end my life? I made a very deep cut that missed everything important. How? If it wasn't God then what? What was it that made me important enough to protect me from my cracked and broken self?
God, what do you see in me that I cannot see myself? Please show me so I can make it another hour. Another day. Please show me so I can make it to another hug from my children. Please.
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