Dictated, not Signed

The train I tried to step in front of runs from Brooklyn to the Bronx and back on a daily. My repressed memories have been getting the best of me. They told me to put an end to the pain and suffering I’ve kept to myself while trying to keep a smile on the face of everyone around me. My Sad-Clown Paradox post was triggered by a talk with an old friend but I don’t think I realized how deep my depression runs…ran?

Every saint was a sinner who fell down and I thank God I was shown how to get back up. I screamed my lungs out as the two police on the track helped me back to my feet. Before I knew it I was surrounded by seven or eight officers and they were asking me what lead me there, what made me want to take the leap. My answer was sexual assault. Assault that happened to me as a seven year old sent me on a spiral. I had no clue I had been harboring and holding this pain so close to my chest that it could possible take me out of this game called life.

Having to wear grippy socks on my feet for four days was the reality check I needed. I realize I spent too much time letting life pass me by, watching everyone around me live and not living for myself, not living for God. Life is neither a fan fiction nor a fabrication of my imagination. These are real people, real emotions. I am a real person, not that I didn’t know this, but when God blesses you, it’s important to know it’s a bad day, not a bad life. I ain’t ready to be called back to the kingdom just yet, there are personal, professional, and spiritual goals that I’m going to accomplish with His help.

444

Four train. Four days. Four life.

I would be remiss to say this is something I would never, and they never say never but I will never attempt to take my life again.

xoxo,

Ashanti Taliya Ismail Hargrove