A life not worth living.

Three months ago I had to be placed on life support. I had gotten pneumonia and my body was shutting down, rapidly. The doctor informed me the only way to save my life was to put  me on a ventilator. Darkness set in. There were no angels. No bright light trying to lure me away. I remember nothing. Did you know that every day you remain on a ventilator, your chances of coming off of it alive decrease? Up until the eighth day my body fought their efforts to wean me off. Perhaps somewhere in the recesses of my mind I knew this. Ten years of unbearable physical pain and ten years of “him”  breaking my spirit were enough to make me not want to come back.

On the eighth day, my body was able to sustain without the breathing tube. I was angry. I was sad. I wanted to lash out at God for ignoring my desire for it to end. I felt betrayed. Why would he send me back for more? So many days I had prayed for Him to take me home. Home, where the would be no more pain. No more breaking my spirit. I guess He wasn’t finished with me. There must be unfinished business.

There is. I suppose He waned me to fight to get my spirit back. Of all the places I would find the courage to fight, I am finding it here with total strangers. Because of your support, I had enough courage to tell tonight that I would no longer allow him to break what was not his to break. I told him if things did not change soon he would be packing his bags. He is even ugly to my mom. She has been through enough abuse in her life. He has abused her for the last time unless he wants to pack his stuff. This is my house. He has no claim to it. My dad bought it
for me since I am disabled and can not work. He didn’t want to leave this world unless I had my own place, fully paid for. One that no one could force me out of. I am very blessed to have a dad that do that for me.

There are no words to adequately express the gratitude I have for the encouragement that total strangers have given me. You have also helped me find the courage to stand up for myself. I can not thank you all enough. The fire in me has returned. I can not wait to explore your blogs and get to know you guys.
Thank you for the love.

Joyfully,

Leah

Crying can feel like dying – one drop at a time.

6 thoughts on “A life not worth living.

  1. Leah, I urge you to stay strong in your resolve to end your abuse. I had to, seven years ago, and at great expense. I ended up a single mom of six young children. It was so hard. Words cannot express how hard. It STILL is hard. But a home with no eggshells was worth the struggle. I pray for you. 🙂 Celena

    Liked by 2 people

  2. When I was in the middle of my cancer treatment I felt like this. I welcomed death like a warm fluffy dog just begging him to sit on my lap. We are all in this together so your pain is my pain and mine is yours. Thanks for finding my blog so we can support each other! ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Leah, never let anyone take away the hope from you. Hope is all we have to go on and create our life all over again. You are a good example for many out there who fear that they will lose their abusers. Worst case of abuse is the emotional one which can ruin you and your life!Happy new life!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Leah,
    I am sorrow for what you have suffered and endured, but I am grateful you still have fight left in you. I know the feeling of wanting it all to end. Pleading with God to take my life. Yet here we both are, living testimonies of life isn’t over yet. God bless you and I will keep you in my prayers.

    Liked by 2 people

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