The next day, after I’d attempted suicide and failed, I laid in my hospital bed thinking about myself, about my life, and what to do next. My nurse walked in. …Thoughts interrupted. “Hi, my name is Janis and I will be your nurse on duty.” I studied her face as she sat on the bed next to me. I could tell she was preparing to offer her comfort, her support… her motivation on living. Unsolicited advice. Her smile was warm, but I could feel her concern. Like a mother’s love for her child. She must’ve really cared. I know nurses are care takers, of course, but I had never experienced one get so into a patient like this before. This approach coming from a hospital nurse took me a little by surprise. “You know,” she began, “There is help for you.”  Looking down at me, she continued,

“Anytime you’re feeling depressed or sad, talk to someone. You are never alone. There are people you can talk to and places you can go to get help whenever you feel you can no longer handle things on your own. You can even talk to me.” That last remark came to me a bit puzzling. How was I supposed to get help from her? I wondered. After leaving here, Is she gonna be my friend or something? …Psssst. She’s just saying something just to be talking.  

“It helps to talk and get things out.  …Taking your life is not the answer.”  She continued as my thinking switched gears into a distance weighing my options and not hers. Eventually, her voice turned into a low echo of babble. She went on, it seemed, for an excruciatingly long time. By the time she was done, I had tuned back in, just in time to hear her ask, “Okay?” Taking a deep breath, I agreed to I don’t know what. But agreed, anyway. I sat up, grabbed the bed control and positioned the bed in an upright position, leaning back on my pillows. Without a care in the world, I nonchalantly asked, as if her conversation had never happened or she had been speaking to someone else,

“When can I get out of here so I can get back to work?”  The nurse pulled back, appearing a little puzzled. I continued,

“I might as well get up and get out of here so I can go back to work. Get on with my life… no sense in me lying around here.” I felt a little like there was a need to be convincing. “I need to get up and get out of this. Get out of here. I’m okay. …Really.”

            Janis’ hesitation and facial expression indicated that she was somewhat doubtful and confused… maybe a little unbelieving.

“Are you sure, hon? She asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, “I will be alright once I get back to work and get myself busy. I just really need to get my mind on other things.” I didn’t want her pressing me about my feelings. Didn’t feel like talking about how I felt physically. No more discussions. I just needed to leave. I felt so strongly about work, because work is what helped to keep my mind preoccupied from all the other things going wrong in my life.

Janis looked at me. The worried wrinkles gradually disappearing. “Okay,” nodding her head, “Okay, then.”

It wasn’t that she'd changed my mind. I had already concluded that here is something else I have attempted to do and I couldn’t even get it right. I couldn’t even kill myself? I sucked. Humph. I was such a failure at even death? It should have been easy? What a disappointment I must be?! …Shaking my head. I might as well get up, get dressed, and go to work. Do something productive. This was ridiculous. I… was ridiculous. This whole thing was stupid!  

Because it appeared, with such resilience that I had so expediently decided to get up, and of all things, get back to work, it had all came across very positive. The nurse thought maybe she'd helped to motivate me. She didn't. Nowhere close. I was still very much in immeasurable pain. I was still so depressed it hurt. On the inside, I had died. My soul violently yelled. …On the inside, I cried. Emotions churning, ran high.

            Janis, might have had her doubts, but what could she do, anyway? Glaring down at me, she finally gave in and replied, once again.

“Well… okay. Um, you can be scheduled to go home today, then. Going over your labs, there is nothing left in your system. All of the medication has been removed. You know, when your stomach was pumped.” ...It had just dawned on me, as Janis mentioned my stomach being pumped. I reached over to grab my purse and began digging through it. I still had half a bottle left of the pills I’d taken. Didn’t dare pull them out in front of Janis. Didn’t want her questioning me about them. So I pushed them back down among the other items in my purse and sat my purse aside.

“Is everything okay?” Janis asked.

“Umm, hmm,” I responded. She paused briefly before continuing on,

“Um, As soon as the doctor completes the discharge forms, I’ll go over the instructions with you and have you sign them. And then you’ll be on your way. It will probably be just a bit longer.” 

As she was finishing up, Mason, my boyfriend, walked in. I introduced him, they spoke. Janis got up to leave. As she pulled the door opened, she turned to remind me about what she’d said. “You remember what I said…okay?”  I nodded twice in agreement. She smiled and left.   

Mason stood with his back towards me, hands tucked deep inside his pockets, as if trying to hold on to something, staring out of the window. Only silence between us. Sadness mixed with awkwardness. What I once unquestionably enjoyed, without thought or hesitation, now analytically examined with grave doubt and disappointment. A powder blue short-sleeve polo shirt, clung gently around magnificent biceps and triceps, tucked inside neatly pressed navy blue dress trousers. Mason had always taken pride in his appearance, exercise and health. Over six feet tall, he was absolutely the sharpest dresser of a man I had ever known. Held me in captivity by the whisk of his cologne, smelled so heavenly nice. Examining his physique. A six pack with a strong back. Clean shaven, smooth mocha brown skin, full lips, black mustache and nicely trimmed barbered haircut. Sexy… bedroom eyes. Kept me mesmerized. Always, always had me so weak inside. A burning flame of desire. I succumbed, time and time again, falling to his grace. ...The Greek God of modern day. The Thinker.  Mmmm....  My GQ magazine pin-up poster. My black American Italian stallion…

A warm tear ran down the side of my face. I turned my head. Look away, girl! Look away! Snap! Snap! Get it together! Get! It! TO--GETHER! Me… all messed up. Priorities out of place. Look at yourself! Look at your life?! What are you doing?!

Biting hard on my lips. I closed my eyes, “Love so deep. Love so troubled. Though, he was not the core of my sorrows. At the same time, he was neither a help.

Was never the one with his eye on the sparrow.  Was more like a Janet Jackson ‘What have you done for ME lately’?

No longer worth my time. Never was. Not even a dime. Blinded by what I thought was love. What I thought was real, got crazy and twisted with other life circumstances. A recipe for destruction. Humph… Caught up on all the wrong things. Being sifted as wheat. Looking in all the wrong places in an attempt to heal a wound. Mend a broken heart. Fix a broken life. Trying to use a band aid on something so deep. The root of my afflictions only Jesus can keep. …Not a man. Especially a man not for me. Unequally yoked, living in sin… What the heck was I thinking, then? Where have I been?

…Feeling suddenly revived with hope and restored in strength. I sprung up out of that hospital bed. Observing the room. The devil is a liar. His plan was to have me dead. This place is for the sick and that’s not me. Feeling prodigal, I belong to a generation of royalty. I’m a daughter of a King! I know God loves and He’s not done with me. For a purpose I have yet to understand. I simply got this feeling that God still has me in His plans.

…Now, where are my clothes? Got to get out of here and get home. Get rid of those pills. Send Mason on his way. Then call the job and get my work schedule, before the end of the day. Can report to work by early morning. Hope to work the C-side. It’s always busier over there. ...Bigger planes and even bigger challenges. Somebody’s got to do it. Why not me.