“This day carries a huge significance to me. I, like so many other Oklahomans, remember exactly where I was at the moment of the Murrah building bombing. For me, I was walking back from the cafeteria at the middle school to the junior high in Chandler by myself. I remember feeling the ground shudder ever so slightly but not realizing at the time what had occurred. But, most of all, I remember that five days later, in the middle of the night, my brother Josh had his first grand mal seizure and was diagnosed with brain cancer. We lost him four months later. It is so hard to believe it has been this many years since all of this happened, and at times, it doesn’t feel any easier than the day it happened. But God of the entire universe desires to engage in the minute details of our lives. He sees ME and knows my struggles. He has us go through the trial to show Himself strong, to sustain us, shield us, and surprise us! Thinking of all those today that have lost a loved one, whether 20 years ago today or any time before or since. May God show Himself strong in your future!”

I wrote this seven years ago and wow how my life has changed since then. I was definitely a broken person in the midst of these words. It is strange how even as I look back into easily the darkest moments of my life of 2015 (darker even than 1995), I brought up words of hope. I wish people in the world could have the footnotes of our words in order to see where we truly are. The words above are the words of a severely depressed and suicidal person. Within four months, I would be driven to sitting at my brother’s grave for hours past the sunset with a bottle of Tylenol and a pair of scissors not sure what the outcome of the night would become. Ten days after that, I would have 17 letters written and placed in a manila folder waiting to be mailed to my best friend, my chosen executor of my last words. And the next day, I would be sitting in a cold ER psychiatric wing, angry about the process, believing nothing would sway my resolve to end my life.

All of this turmoil and devastated identity happened while I offered words of hope. It really goes to the saying, “Check on your strong friends. They may be the ones in the most pain.” I will forever by grateful for my best friend at the time, Carrie, checking on me that day after work and not glossing over the subtle words that could easily be taken as venting after a hard day at work. She took my phone in the parking lot, looked up my therapist in the contacts list (she only knew his first name) and called him right then despite me begging her to let me call him later. She saved my life. She sat with me for 9 hours that evening in the ER waiting for a bed on the psych floor to open up, and visited me when I was too ashamed to even let my family know what was going on. We parted ways since that time, I am sure because going through that experience changed a lot for her and for me. I am blessed beyond measure to have a friend that risked everything to see my pain for what it was.

So ironically, these words today don’t sound of resounding hope in recalling the truth behind a social media post. In fact, I have gone through several more trials since that time. A failed marriage, lost jobs, a clinical trial for unconventional treatment of treatment-resistant depression, major back surgery, and another psychiatric hospitalization to name a few. Seven years later, I can say God has shown Himself strong. This time, I will assure the ones reading these words, there is not grief or depression lingering below. Just a reminder that His promises are the only words that remain consistent despite where we are when we write them.

If you are struggling with suicidal thoughts or plans, please reach out to your friends, family, therapist, or another professional. Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. Even if it makes you angry, go through the process, and find help.