8,409,600 Breaths

​One year ago, I awoke in a mental health unit certain that I knew how to end the suffering.

52 weeks ago, I walked 15km to the ocean stopping only to buy razors, painkillers and beer. 

365 days ago, I washed down a bottle of pills with a six-pack, watched the sand absorb bright red drops, and stared at the horizon as the waves lapped at my toes. 

8,409,600 breaths ago, I filled my lungs and walked into the water, prepared to swim until I couldn't swim anymore, and then...

Then it would end, no more unbearable pain, no more reliving my darkest moments as I slept, no more broken Sarah who couldn't be the mother, partner, daughter, friend or person that everyone around me deserved, and no more crushing failure and defeat.

It made perfect sense at that moment. 

And that would have been the end of my story. A full stop.

Except my story didn't stop there. I was given a chance to hold on and I did.

Since then, there have been so many moments to cherish.

I've held my children and wiped their tears. 

James and I have danced to our son’s band and watched our daughter canter on horseback for the first time.

I've woken to see sunrise from a rooftop tent, cycled in the rain with my muddy, deliriously happy dog, and ridden through the bush on horseback. 

We’ve thrown a Harry Potter party for our daughter's 10th birthday; with costumes, Hogwarts classes and all.

My son and I have had our noses pierced together, and I've danced with my daughter to our favourite songs, both old and new.

I've made new friends, caught up with lifelong ones, and spent time with family and friends whom I hold dear. 

I’m learning to breathe (really breathe!) so that I feel life and energy coursing through my body.

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I’m learning to connect with my body, mind, and soul through hours of yoga.

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I’m learning to recognise and respect my boundaries.

I've read so many wonderful stories that have made me laugh, cry and feel all the feels that make me fricking thankful I'm alive. 

I'm so grateful that I'm alive.

 Life now isn't without pain, but there is a growing light in the darkness. 

 I recently heard a phrase on a suicide prevention segment on the radio: no feeling is forever. 

And it's true. In this unpredictable world, we can always count on change. 

8,409,600 breaths ago could have marked the end.

 I'm so grateful that I was given a chance to hold on.

For anyone who needs to hear this:

The world needs your unique self in it. 

There is no one who can replace you or be a better version of you. 

 It might feel like there is no end to the tunnel of darkness, but I assure you, there is. This too shall pass.

 Do the things that make you make you strong. Do the stuff that brings you joy, or even the stuff that used to bring you joy. 

Or if all you can do is breathe, then just keep breathing. This breath might be tough but take another, and another and another.

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 There will be brighter days if you can find the will to reach out and hold on.

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