Fuck this world and everything in it.
I’ve reached the end.
I know I don’t have many followers, but if it isn’t too much to ask I would like for everyone to just take a second to read my story. The pictures above are a summary of my life the past two years. From my first date with Christian, to my first and only prom with him, to finding out I was pregnant and starting our family. As you can see the past two years have sort of been a roller coast ride for me, with plenty of ups and downs. But I can easily say they were the best two years of my life. There are a few dates I will never forget, starting with February 26th, 2012. That was the day me and christian officially started our relationship. The next date is July 11th, 2012. The day I found out I was approximately 7 weeks pregnant. January 12th, 2013, the day we moved into our little house. Then February 13th, 2013. The day my son, Noah Clark Carden came into the world. I’ll never forget June 8th, 2013, the day Christian was taken to jail (just a minor probation violation), and July 23rd, 2013, the day he was released. After that, the dates are all kind of just a blur and a flash of good memories. Until, October 30th, 2013. That is the night Christian died. I found him, he had committed suicide. I stayed by his side until the ambulance arrived, but he had no heart beat. I followed them to the hospital and as soon as they resuscitated him and he was stable they allowed me in his room. At first I sat by his side holding his hand, and I just cried. He was breathing on his own through a tube, and a machine was doing most of the work for his heart. Just when I lost all hope one of the nurses told me, “You know you can talk to him, right? Hearing is always the last thing to go in a situation like this”. So I did, I told him many things. Countless times I told him how much I loved him. How much me and Noah needed him. That if he would just fight for me, and come back, that God would give us another chance to do things right and to be a family. I just went on and on, and when I looked up, his eyes were half open and he was crying. Tears streaming down his face. That’s when I knew.. he wasn’t going to be able to come back to me, and he knew it too. But I stayed there, I stayed by his side until they called his death and removed the machines. And for an additional two hours I sat there with my head on his chest, and I played with his hair because that was his favorite thing. I stayed until the nurses said it was time to go, I looked at him, whispered I love you, kissed him on the forehead, and I walked out. Christian suffered from depression, but not a lot of people knew that because he never reached out to anyone. He had stopped his antidepressants, but he didn’t let anyone know. He truly felt that if he died nobody would miss him, that we were all better off without him.. well he was wrong. But he couldn’t help that he felt this way, he was sick. People don’t understand how severe a mental illness can be just because you cannot see it. So this post has two messages in it. ONE, if you are depressed and you feel like you have no purpose, like you are not loved, well you are WRONG. There are many people out there that will be affected and deeply hurt to lose you. Christian didn’t realize that until it was too late. And two, if you are having suicidal thoughts… reach out to someone.. anyone. You can even message me day or night, and I will talk if you want to talk, or listen if you want me to listen. Don’t keep things hidden, and don’t feel embarrassed, scared, or ashamed.. please. You are not unwanted, you are not any different, you are depressed, and there is a cure. I would give anything to go back and tell Christian all of this, why I waited until it was too late… I dont know. And I will never forgive myself. So don’t make that mistake. Life is too short to spread hate, to hold grudges, to cut ties. Instead forgive, spread love, and find happiness. Christian always told me how much he loved to make other people happy, and it was true. I can’t name all the favors that were left unreturned.. but he didn’t care. He did it for the joy of making someones day. He was such a people pleaser, if he couldn’t make somebody happy, he felt like he had failed. What he didn’t understand is that it wasn’t his responsibility to make others happy, but he took on the challenge anyways. When other people were hurting, Christian took in their pain as his own. Everyday took a toll on him, to the point where the pain was unbearable. But you would have never known if you met him. He would flash that smile and release every bit of happiness he had until he had none left. I know it seems cliche, but it is true. Reblog this to spread Suicide Awareness. If my story can help save just one life, well then I will feel accomplished. And if Christian knew he started something to inspire others, to bring someone to reach deep down inside and find their own inner happiness, and give them a reason to live, well then he would feel accomplished too. So please, help me do this for him. I may not have worded this exactly how I wanted to, or got everything out, but I think I did the best I could at this point.
I do not know what it means to “be strong”. It all depends on what I’m fighting for I guess. What am I fighting for anyway?
What is right? What is wrong?
People can give me answers. Their answers. People can shake my shoulders and scream into my ears “this is not the answer”. All in vain, however, for my heart has grown deaf to their voices. Only I can decide for myself what I believe is true.
But sad thing is, I don’t even know if what I believe is right..is truly right. I’m not entirely sure that I trust my own self.
All I know is that
I feel cold.
My heart is ice.
I want to fall asleep and not have to wake up to bother any further with this life.
I am tired.
|—||Julia Gregson, East of the Sun (via larmoyante)|
My love for you resembles a cross,
yet not quite so perfect.
The alignment is a little crooked,
the wood chipped and jagged.
The surface not so sleek,
splinters upon splinters jutting out of each side.
To the eyes of anyone else,
it simply looks like a mess.
A flawed work to be tossed into the trash and rebuilt.
But Love Himself says otherwise.
And every day of life, every step I take, every breath in lung works toward perfecting the imperfect.
Dan and I, oho yeah we have our fair share of arguments, disagreements, and seasons of trial and testing. But through our imperfections and all, as we get through them by God’s grace, I’m learning so much. It’s definitely not always easy or fun, but at the end of each and every day, it’s always always SO incredibly worth it. I’m learning so much from this man about what love is and what Christ’s love is. I am a lucky girl and to be with this man is nothing but a pure blessing.
I miss you too, Dan.
Come back to me safely and soon. I’ll have a giNORMOUS hug waitin’ just. for. you. [:
Honestly, I hate retreats. Why? Sure, everything seems to all fine and dandy during that 4-day grace period of being away from home. After nights and nights of prayer and encouragement, I make myself believe that when I get home, things will be different. I’ll feel differently, think differently. But the second I come back from a retreat or anything of the sort, the second I step into my house and hear the voices of my family, I hate it. I hate it with every fiber of my being. I’m drained of anything..good inside me. All glimmers of hope that I managed to conjure up during this retreat, gone in an instant and replaced by utter…disgust. And a headache. Disgust with my family, my parents, myself. I’m tired of the same damn thing over and over again.
I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
“An Interview with 85 Year Old Best Friends”
HAHA omg old people are fantastic