My Mom & Art Saved My Life From Suicide

When I was 16, I wrote my first suicide letter besides leaving it for my mother in a more private manner. I posted it on Facebook for my whole family and world to take it in. I felt hopeless. I felt like I wasn’t meant for this life. I wanted help, but I didn’t know what helped looked like. I felt lost….

I questioned myself, God, society, and I felt like there was no place I belonged. I told my mother I was a burden to her and myself because of my face and the constant surgeries. I was being bullied in high school and bullied by everyday bystanders in public. I just couldn’t handle the pressure anymore; it was all too much for me. I didn’t have any plan for my death, but I knew that I was gonna disappear and never appear again.  

I was scared, I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t want to deal with that pain anymore. I would sit in the back of each class in high school, wearing a hoodie, hood up over my head, with my head always facing downward. Hoping people forgot I existed, I avoided almost all social events and ate most lunches in the nurse’s office to be free of judgment.  

To be this kid who had surgeries. Who struggled with breathing and having a “normal” life. Who was bullied by people that he trusted, like his father. Who decided to leave my family during the same period as that letter. My father tortured my mom and me mentally, spiritually, and sometimes physically; it tore us down, and it made me feel like it was all of my fault.

I would create photoshop art in my room at night, in the corner of my room on the floor with my favorite red and black Bluetooth headphones, sometimes listening to Never Be Alone By Shawn Mendes or Life is Worth Living By Justin Bieber. Those headphones would somewhat block out the noise of my parents arguing or my dad belittling me through the walls. Creating art in that manner was magical. I felt like I had this tiny bubble of protection. 

I kept my digital art secret for months because it kept me from my thoughts of committing suicide.  

 My mother was a hardworking woman, and she didn’t know about me publicly posting my letter until days later. I remember she ran into my room at 3Am crying and asking me, 

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU FELT THIS WAY?” “SPEAK TO ME, JOSHUA. I WILL NOT LET YOU FEEL THIS ALONE.” 

 I just sat there, crying, screaming. 

 “I don’t want this life anymore, ma” 

She just gave me a hug, 

I cried my ass off for at least 10 minutes straight. That hug broke me down and opened my wounds. I began talking about it, and she listened to me without judgment. Assured me that I was safe.  

 After almost 2 years of seeing her, I learned about the power of affirmations, art therapy, deep breathing meditations, causes of my C-PTSD and possible ways to cope with the triggers, anger management, how to check in daily with my own mental wellness, and so many more helpful resources I carry with my today precisely 6 years later from where I started.  

I’m not perfect; I still struggle with depression, anxiety, C-PTSD, and suicidal thoughts, but identifying them and actively learning how to cope with them makes life fulfilling for me. It makes me excited, to be here everyday. 

I take it one day at a time and establishing small daily goals that feels just as powerful as big goals.

I would’ve never thought I would’ve lived to see 22. 

 If I could talk to younger Josh, I would tell him.  

 I am so sorry from the bottom of my heart for all the pain and suffering you feel. I need you to know that your life is meaningful and deserve a place in this world. Your life is worth fighting for; just take it one day at a time. It’s OK to cry; it’s normal to have mixed emotions. It’s OK to be upset.

you’re not alone. 

Yes, your experiences are so unique that they set you apart from everyone else but don’t compare yourself to others. 

Talking about your pain is one of the first steps towards healing. 

Your feeling of isolation and sadness is not something you should fight alone. 

Help is available

and it’s worth every teardrop associated with it. 

I love you, and  you  are  loved.  

 Oh Wait before I forget.