Trigger warning, this is going to be some tough realities about suicide, so prepare yourselves.

Tonight I was playing my favorite soon to be deleted Facebook game on Facebook, and I heard this thought, “I have nothing left to live for.”

Here’s the thing, this wasn’t my thought, it was just a thought I had, and I think it’s because I’ve spent the entire day being really frustrated with my mom.

Two years ago I spent Christmas Eve alone because I had a huge fight with my mom, and I left the hotel we were staying at, and came home. I cried myself to sleep that night, and I thought to myself “I have nothing left to live for.” I had just quit my job, a job I had been at for nearly ten years, and a job that I loved as much as I hated.

Most of my twenties was spent taking care of other people, and almost never taking care of myself, eventually I found myself looking to drown my sorrow in booze and fake friends, and so spending Christmas eve alone, when I really, really, had no one to call, or anyone to come and get me, was really tough for me.

Today I was thinking about how frustrated I was with my mom and I thought to myself “there is no escape” and for a moment I genuinely felt like I had 0 control over my life, but now as I sit here, I realize that I go through moments of wanting to straight up kill myself.

Earlier tonight before meeting up with my family (all the people in our bubble, I promise), I took a shower, the overwhelming feeling of being completely out of control of my own body, I completely broke down, and I started crying about one of my abusers. He had me for three days, and raped me until I was completely raw, at the time I didn’t think that I could say no. I didn’t know how to say no, so when he asked, I just said yes, because that’s what I had been viciously and violently trained to do when men came on to me.

I was sixteen years old.

I pretended everything was fine, I pretended I wasn’t bothered by it, but tonight for some reason, seemingly out of nowhere, the pain and sorrow and hurt and shame and guilt came rushing to the surface and for a good ten or fifteen minutes I was completely out of my mind with grief.

To counterbalance this, I decided that I absolutely needed my family. I’ve barely been out of the house all year, and since we’re all in each other’s bubble, except for two of us, I decided to risk it, and I went to see my family. If I hadn’t I genuinely believe I would not have made it through tonight.

Spending time with my brother, and his girlfriend was the healing that I needed this year, spending time with my mommy in a setting that was outside of the house, away from all the stresses of work and covid was the balm my soul needed.

However, I recognize that not everyone in the world has the reality of being able to spend time with their family this Christmas, and a lot of people are out there thinking they have nothing to live for, because they don’t have people lifting them up, and I just want you to know. I fucking get it.

I don’t “poor you let me hug you and make you feel better” when you’re talking about suicide, I tell you that it’s a fucking stupid choice, and you shouldn’t fucking do it, and I will absolutely hold your hand until you learn to laugh again, but I am not going to let you feel sorry for yourself baby, because you deserve more than that.

You deserve to remember that you are loved, and even if you are alone, that there are people in the world who would miss you if you were gone. You deserve to know that the world is harsh, and cruel, and downright fucking evil sometimes, but you are absolutely strong enough to handle whatever comes your way.

I have a lot of friends who definitely want to be by my side when shit goes left and I lose my (ha ha) mind, I have a lot of really amazing people in my life, all over the world who would do anything to be here for me, and I know that now, because I have given them space to be a part of my journey, but here’s the thing…so do you.

It’s hard in the moment, to remember that there are anchors that will help pull you up, but I promise you the anchors exist, you just have to be willing to open your eyes and see them.

I have my Budsista’s, and my weekly therapy sessions, I have a ton of weed, and an amazing family, I have my blog, the fans, the followers, and the friends that come with it, I have the podcast, and the new clothing line that I am mentally working on.

There are things in my life that keep me here, but each of these things are the result of a desperate need to reach out to the world and let it in.

I found my path through writing and sharing my stories, I found my path because I decided that I didn’t want to be fucking miserable anymore, and trust me, there are days, and whole weeks where I sit around moping about how miserable my life is, and how much I wish I was dead, and No, it is NOT THE FUCKING SAME as being homeless, or getting beaten up every night at home, or being told you’re going to go to hell for being LGBTQ2+ but I’ve been there.

I’ve been to darkness that I didn’t know could exist in this world, and I am still fucking here, so maybe, if I could survive the shit that I’ve been through, you can try to survive the shit that you’re going through.

There are eight billion people on this planet, plus all of our spirit guardians, allies, guides, and Angels, you are absolutely positively not the fuck alone. You just feel that way because the world is feeding off of your pain, but I promise it absolutely does get better. Not all the time, not every second of the day is amazing, but you learn to navigate the shit, and once you do you have officially changed the game.

Please, please please, do not make a permanent decision about a temporary problem, you can’t come back from the dead. I know this for a fact.

Please, use this page, and find a help-line number if you are feeling alone, PLEASE pick up the phone and call someone, join a Facebook group, find friends, reach out to the world and I promise the world will reach out to you.

Sending all my love,

Devon J Hall

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