That never happened. Well, not ever exactly like that, anyway. When it comes right down to it, I’m too wimpy to pull a trigger or swallow pills or fall from a high place or whatever other ways one can kill herself.
But, I did basically kill myself every day for several years, or at least the me I was meant to be. When you give up everything about who you were created to be in order to try to please someone else’s idea of what’s right in life, you are killing yourself. It’s a slow, torturous death, really. It’s the kind where you start forgetting why you’re even crying or what you set out to be or who you ever hoped to find.
Now, agape love – willing the highest good for the other – is very definitely sacrificial. There’s a lot of giving in this real love scenario. But, that applies to both sides. It doesn’t mean one party just starts laying down like a door mat while the other party stomps his feet harder and harder every time he walks in.
So, the only time I ever thought about ending my own life was the moment I had to decide whether to end my marriage or go on in the manner to which I had become accustomed. Thankfully, I somehow found the strength to make that decision.