A Life-Saving Promise

A Story of Faith Written by Kaitlynn Olivas

trigger warning: mention of suicide

Jesus Christ has saved my life. He knows what it means to be alone, and with Him we are never alone.

My first suicidal thought, that I remember, was when I was 14 years old. I remember writing in my journal, I want to die, over and over again. These thoughts lasted most of my freshman and sophomore years of high school.

I remember one time coming downstairs from a breakdown in my room, after a fight with my parents, yelling at my mom and step-dad, “I could have taken all of my pills and killed myself you know?”,  and my mom said, “I’m glad you didn’t.” That was the only time I expressed suicidal thoughts to my family.

Looking back on my life, I can think of specific events that contributed to these thoughts and feelings. My parents divorced in the second grade and packing up bags every weekend to visit our dad took a toll on me. I didn’t have many friends in high school. I butted heads with my parents. Verbal abuse occurred in my home and I felt worthless. 

At age 12 I became religious and feared that I could not be saved if I committed suicide so I never planned or attempted it. I knew deep down that I didn’t want to end my life, but I KNEW I did not want to live in these dark moments. I desired a cease in existence. One that would be painless and hurt no one along the way. 

During one of these hard times, I remember praying and begging God to help me. In this prayer I made a promise to Him that I would not take my own life.

For almost 9 years, I didn’t have a suicidal thought. I never really thought about those thoughts I had during high school. I had brought it up to close friends in passing, when it felt appropriate, but it wasn’t anything I dwelled on. It was in the past and I wanted it to stay there. I had really tough days and depression and anxiety were still very close to me. Dark days overshadowed light days, but in the end I wanted to live. I was enjoying life and getting through the tough times. It took medication and counseling and effort in many forms, but I was enduring, and I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with those dark thoughts again. Until December 2019.

I didn’t just wake up one morning and think, I want to die.  It was more gradual than that. I don't know if it was taking 18 credits, the thought of moving to another state and leaving friends after graduation, my parent's relationship issues, or all of that combined, but something in me snapped. I felt completely broken. There were days when I laid in bed with no desire to do anything. I went through the motions of life, putting on a facade for those around me.

I looked into resources my church had put out for suicide. I watched videos and read scriptures and sermons given by religious leaders. I reached out to a few close friends, and attempted to express to them the feelings and thoughts I was having. I remember being so scared; I hadn’t had those feelings for many years. I felt blindsided and didn’t know how to cope. I took it day by day and felt better after about a month. It was a wave. I was done, and once again it was in the past. 

I was fine for a while, seasonal depression came around as it does every winter, and then quarantine hit all of us. I had some low times but for the most part I was okay. Until May 2020. 

I had recently moved in with my best friends and I was happy. But for some reason my anxiety was starting to reach an all time high. My heart rate would be anywhere from 80-90 beats per minute when I was doing nothing. My throat would get tight and a pit in my stomach would develop. This would happen anytime I was with my group of friends outside of my apartment. People who, just a couple of months ago, I was used to doing everything with. 

Suicidal thoughts began to surface again. I truly did not want to exist anymore. I didn’t want to feel like a burden to those around me. I was afraid to be alone. I was scared to drive 40 minutes on the freeway to visit my friend because of what I might do. I had to postpone hanging out for that reason; I never told him or anyone I felt that way. During this time, I felt worthless and stupid. These words had been used against me growing up, but they were beginning to feel more real than ever before.

No matter how much I thought about suicide, I also thought about that promise to God. And more importantly, the one person who I could not lose this battle for; my sister. She doesn’t know it, but she’s my person. The one who keeps me alive when life is the absolute darkest. 

As time went on I felt better, the thoughts passed and I was again at ease. It's been a couple of months since then and to be honest it is hard to remember how I felt. It’s weird how one moment I can feel such strong intense emotions and then just a couple of weeks, or even days, later, I feel fine. This is a mystery I will never understand. 

Happiness is something that I am constantly searching for. Talking to friends and sharing vulnerable experiences of trials and heartaches, triumphs and hope, has given me peace of mind in knowing that while hardships are ahead, so are pockets of peace and joy. I have to ride the waves of each life experience, from the high mountains to the low valleys. For each one truly cannot exist without the other. 

Someone once shared this really beautiful imagery of how the hard times and sad times in our lives allow our hearts to open up a little bit more, like clay on a wheel, and when the good happy times are here we have a greater capacity to feel them because our hearts have been expanded.

Because of the hard times, I have greater capacity to feel the good. 

While I am in a good place and it’s scary to think of the trials I have to go through, I know in the end it will allow me to feel greater joy. And so far I have had a 100% success rate of getting through the bad days. So that's a pretty good track record.

God and Christ have been with me on this journey. The promise I made to God is always in the back of my mind. Prayer and temple worship were sources of refuge from the storms in my head. Reading scriptures, especially Revelation 21:4 which says, “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” This verse is one of hope, that one day I will be comforted in person by my Savior; His hands on my face, personally wiping away my tears. This image is something I hold onto dearly.

I am using the resources God has given to us to help me with this fight. I am taking advantage of modern medicine. I go to therapy. I have received countless blessings from church leaders that have strengthened and carried me. I have a support system of friends, who I can talk to and lean on, that were put in my path to help me. I know that I am not alone in this. 

“Like a Broken Vessel,” a sermon given by a church leader of mine, has had an immense impact on my life. It ends with a comforting and hopeful thought, “Whatever your struggle…, mental or emotional or physical or otherwise—do not vote against the preciousness of life by ending it! Trust in God. Hold on in His love. Though we may feel we are ‘like a broken vessel,’ we must remember, that vessel is in the hands of the divine potter. Broken minds can be healed...” 

I know that my struggle with depression and anxiety will never go away. I also know that I will probably have suicidal thoughts again. I don’t know when that will happen, it could be 18 weeks or 18 months or 18 years from now. And when they do, I will remember that promise, and my love for my sister. 

Jesus Christ has saved my life. He knows what it means to be alone, and with Him we are never alone. Christ wept, so we can weep. And when the weeping seems to never stop, He comes along and helps wipe away those tears.