It was just a thought.

I really shouldn’t be alive. I really rather not be alive. I passed out last night in an attempt to suffocate myself, in hopes of waking up to be somewhere not of this world. Instead, I woke up to the same miserable, pathetic life I tried so hard to escape. My friend Brittany once said that she swore there were angels watching over me. All evidence supports that statement. I have tried numerous occasions to die. Death has become my obsession over the years. The things I have done should have killed me. There is no other explanation than God and his army of seraphim guarding me closely. I don’t know why. All I know is that all I want is to die and all God wants is for me to live. I’ve strangled myself, hung myself, slit my wrists, overdosed on pills, overdosed on pills and chased them with vodka, put a trash bag over my head until I passed out, and now attempted to suffocate myself. My attempts have been in vain. Some how, something keeps me alive through it all. Pushes me to the edge but won’t let me fall off. I feel like the only sure way of dying is to shoot myself in the head. But attaining a gun is something I haven’t been able to do. It’s like God just shuts all the doors of death I try to enter. I saw God’s hand last night. That’s something I will never tell anyone for fear of sounding crazy because I know- I know­- it’s crazy. But it’s true. A pillow pressed tightly over my face, inhaling what I exhale, poisoning my lungs, I saw God’s hand reach out to me. I tried to grab it, I wanted to grab it, but I knew the only way I could grab it was to leave this world. So I pressed the pillow harder. And harder and harder. I inhaled sharply, my lungs screaming for oxygen got none. A weird tingle went through my entire body, like every part of me fell asleep. And then I fell asleep. A rush to my head, specks of light swarming around my shut eyes, and I was gone. Forever, I thought. But I awoke. I awoke and I was confused at first. Wondering why I was still here. How I was still here. I don’t understand. Why won’t God let me touch His hand? Why is He depriving me of eternal bliss? For what reason am I forced to suffer day in and day out? Why won’t he let me die?