Extended material of Soft Time Vs. Hard Time

I didn’t actually think to write specifically about this topic, however, once I started to think about it, I couldn’t stop thanking God how He saved my life – stopping me from doing stupid things.

It was late at night
My mom was downstairs; her new baby born kept her ALWAYS so busy that she could hardly have time with me. It made sense, really. However, I don’t know whether it was me being jealous and selfish, or it was just a huge different than before. My mom was used to be my side all the times; she’d always been my best friend: we hung around together, we shared problems. We used to be like friends before. When the baby came, everything was changed.

As I shared in the previous post, there was one period when I lost everything: friends at school, at church, my family, and I just remembered that it was the time when my best friend went to Sydney for her study. I had no one – in my opinion at that time.

I cried out to God, asking His justice.
I cried and cried.
At the same time, I saw something laid on my desk.
I came near – it was my medicines.

I was ‘ill’. I’d lied to my mom that I was ill, because I didn’t want to go to school; I didn’t want facing the reality that everybody hated me – I didn’t have friends.
Thus, she, or even my dad, gave me sort of aspirins, and other stuffs for headache and cold. I took one this morning, when I ACTUALLY had headache.

I saw my medicines; I reckoned they were quite a lot.
I had an idea to take all of them.
What I thought at that moment was not to kill myself, but just to get attention from friends and family, like telling them that I was still alive.
“Hi! I’m still here! Do you remember me?” was what exactly what I wanted to say.
I was actually afraid taking all those medicines.
I was afraid to die.
I just wanted to be in a hospital for a while, watching everybody feeling sorry for me and for them – feeling sorry for neglecting me.
I wanted them to know that I existed.

I took five pills – two aspirins, a cough pill, and a flu pill.
I drank a glass of water afterwards and prepared myself to suffer in any moment.
An hour, two hours,..
I was still ‘alive’.

I went to bed, tried to sleep thinking that by the time I woke up tomorrow, I would be in the hospital. I would see people surrounding me.

I couldn’t sleep. I stayed awake,..
I tried to, but I couldn’t.
I was restless, tense.
I sweated.

I woke up the next day, still okay.
Nothing happened!
I, maybe, said to myself, “Dammit! Why didn’t it work?”

The next days, I had to face the ‘real world’ again.

Two days after the first-suicide-project happened, I planned my second-suicide-project.
I stole some pills from medicine box to accomplish my project.
So far I remembered, I doubled the amount of medicines I’d taken before, thus they could be four aspirins, two cough pills, and two flu pills, could be more.

I knew that I might die because of my ‘second project’, but I didn’t care. Lately, everything was even worse. If my fist project was to get attention, the second one was more serious. I was indeed still afraid to die, being in Hell, but I just didn’t care.

The moment came.
First, I took a look, a good look, to my medicines, in my hand.
I put them in my mouth, bit by bit.
Drink a glass of water - swallowed them, slowly but sure.

I sat, in front of my table.
Pretending to be a holy man, praying to God.
Who I was, still praying even I sinned, dreadfully sinned –I ended my life, my gracious life from God. (it is actually what I thought just now)
I cried indeed.
I felt sorry for myself.

I opened my photo album, looking all my happy moments, with my friends, but especially with my family.
I might not see them again tomorrow.

I tried to sleep, being sure that if I was lucky, I would wake up in the hospital, and if I wasn’t, I would be in front of God’s presence, or even worse directly in Hell.

I tried to close my eyes
I tried.
I close my eyes, hugged my pillow, but I couldn’t.
I was restless.
I was tense.
I sweated.
I couldn’t sleep.
This time was even worse.
I barely slept.
By the time I really felt asleep, someone woke me up.
“Nia, are you not going to school?”

I woke up.
I WAS ALIVE!
I WAS STILL ALIVE.
How come??

I woke up, walking to the bathroom, puzzled.
I was bewildered.
How could I was still alive after swallowing those medicines.
I went to school, hardly spoke to anyone.
I wasn’t concentrated at all, at anything.

At one moment, suddenly, it was like someone whispered in my ear, knocking my heart.
“Nia, don’t you realize that you were alive because of Me. I don’t want you to die. I want you to live, I still want you to be in the world, doing My job.”

Seriously, I felt God’s presence.
I suddenly realized, what I’d done was extremely crazy. In reality, one would die, or overdose if he did what I’d done.
It was God who’d saved me.
It was Him took away my death.

It was just like a snap, I didn’t feel lonely anymore.
I felt someone walked with me, bear my pain, my problems.

I share this not to show off, or to find popularity.
Or to show how adventurous my life had been.
No, I was just want to tell you, that I was once really vulnerable
I was once failed.
But I had Him.
Indeed.
Till now.

p.s. Mom, Dad, it wasn’t your fault neglecting me. It was God using this moment to teach me.
For your information, friends whom I had problems with, friends from school, some of them were now my best friends. Frenky, you were terribly annoying, but you were part of my examination. Thanks all!