“Why did I want to die? Because living was just so damn hard, even at age 10. When all I had to do was get up in the morning and go to school, it was more than drudgery; it was excruciating.”

“I remember thinking I wanted to die rather than live through another February day of grayness; I didn’t tell anyone because I knew it wasn’t normal. And normal was all I ever wanted to be.”

“I wanted to live more than I wanted to die. I didn’t know how to live. I didn’t know how I would be able to live life on life’s terms. But I know God carried me to the end of that journey so I could start a new one. In those few days, God brought me to the point of willingness again, to start down a path with an unknown destination.”

“I believe that time period was a gift of God’s grace. I have no other way to explain why I did not die or suffer permanently disabling seizures.”

“I am not proud of this moment. It is not one I share with others often, and rarely have I done so. It was hard to live through then. And it is difficult to walk through now, 22+ years later. But this is the moment that lay to rest every doubt about whether or not I had a “problem.”

“I had to clear up my messy life. By letting go of the debris and filth, I have come to a deeper, more soulful beauty and clarity like an oasis in the desert. From that place of clarity, a vision of what I could have, what I could do, who I could be has emerged if I allow my heart to become a place of compassion, acceptance and forgiveness.”

“The pain had to be great enough for me to accept my reality, to hope that something different, and hopefully better, was out there and to do whatever came next to reach that point. It seems clear and simple when I write it down on paper. But I also know just because something is simple, it does not mean it is easy.”