My friend decided the other night to try and take his life. He overdosed on his medication. I had to call 911. At first I cried a bit; but then I got angry. I’m angry that he felt his life was disposable. I’m angry that he tried to do it near me. I’m angry that he ruined our plans. I’m angry that he still wants me to pick up the pieces of his shattered life.
I’m also sad. I’m sad that he felt so little for anyone else in his life that killing himself was the only answer. I’m sad because if he had succeeded, he would have been gone and so would his laughter. I’m sad that he suffers depression so deep that he doesn’t want to go on.
I’m happy his attempt failed.
I’m disappointed that he lost all hope.
Prayer has been my saving grace that last few days. God has filled me with so much hope for this man. God is going to save him, work in his life and bring him through this. God will give him hope to go on.
He gets out of the hospital on Monday and begins intensive therapy. I see a light. I rejoice in the Lord for what he has done to save him.