Everyone has their own breaking point. A point where life problems just get too much to handle and we need a break for a while. Ive hit my breaking point twice before. Don’t get me wrong, I get close a lot. But I’ve only hit that breaking point twice before. Both times I was hospitalized. The first time was after I got some devastating news, my marriage wasn’t where I wanted it to be, and being a mom was hard work. I think post-pardom depression had some part in it as well. I finally got to a point where life was to much and I decided to try and take my own life. I remember this night so vividly. I went and took a walk, contemplating what I was about to do. I kept thinking that I was the reason my marriage wasn’t what it was meant to be. I thought that I was a horrible mother because I wasn’t able to have the patience that everyone else had. I was miserable because I thought I wasn’t good enough to live. I thought that I would be better off dead than to take care of my daughter and fix my marriage. After my walk, I went back in the house and I gave Mackenzie a kiss and told her goodnight and goodbye. I remember that goodnight perfectly. She was fast asleep in her bed and I went and kissed her forehead and told her mommy loved her more than anything. I went into the bathroom and I swallowed a bunch of pills. I don’t remember a whole lot after that. I remember not being able to walk and Jake carried me to my bedroom. That was me hitting my breaking point. I had finally hit it. I didn’t know where to turn or what to do. I don’t think I was very educated. The next day I woke up pretty sick. I didn’t tell anyone what I did because I was even more ashamed because I couldn’t even kill myself right. I felt as if i was drowning and like I couldn’t breathe. Two weeks later, I went in for a check up with my primary doctor and had told her everything. I broke down in one of her rooms and just cried for what it felt like hours. She called my mom and my mom and I went into the hospital together and they made me stay there a few days to get back up on my feet. I thank God everyday that I didn’t take enough to kill me. I thank God because I can now watch my daughter learn how to walk, I get to watch her go to her first day of school. Others aren’t so lucky. This is such a hard thing to talk about. Nowadays so many people struggle with depression and have the same experience i had. Mental health is so so important. Many people just don’t know their options. If you or anyone you know is struggling just ask for help. Please ask for help. I needed help but I was to scared to ask for it. I was too scared to show the world that that life was getting to much that I wanted to escape and not deal with the shame. When really there is no shame in asking for help. My door is always open please remember that.