Is it really true a new year is a new me?.

Does one calendar day difference really change the perspectives, behavioral patterns, and problems, or is this just a story we tell ourselves?

I wanted to die because life was becoming poison, and hard to live alone.

Then, I realized that I was a miracle in progress. And it’s too late to stop this miracle, and nothing is impossible.

Suicide is a permanent decision, often a temporary situation.

But what do you (I) do when the pain doesn’t go away? I’m still hurting, and I’m crying out for release, acting out to escape overcompensating in school, etc., in order to feel inferior or superior.

I’m 33, and this isn’t the time for me to fear, to back down and give in. for as the writer sings, “It’s too late to lose; you (Jesus) already made a way. The Cross still stands, (sacrifice) of Christ’s still speaks, and the grave of Christ is still empty.”

This just means if you a believer Jesus died a brutal death for the sins of all men, woman and non-binary people so that we would not have to live a life of condemnation being weighted down with guilt, pain and regret. Not only this gift, but now we have direct access to GOD, the triune God, through Jesus. Jesus was killed on a bad Friday, stayed in the grave for two days, and on the first Sunday morning, he rose. Taking power back from the evilness in this world proves that if he achieved this and if we come in his name, there is nothing we cannot do.

Knowing the history of the Trinity, I still face thoughts of suicide. Thinking to myself no one will miss me; it’ll be another day, and I just disappear. then I think of my ancestors being captured from Africa to work as slaves and taught a perverted gospel of Jesus to keep us condemned. How my great grandma is one generation away from slavery. With my academic achievements, I remember my late grandma always saying, “Baby, you’re the answer to a slave’s prayer, the reason why blood was shed, we worked in the heat, suffered violence, then one day we were free. So take the baton of freedom and make a difference that we could and sing the old negro hymns. Never let them escape your lips. And always know you’re grandma’s bay.”

Maybe I don’t want to die, but just for the pain to end, the distress to end, the loneliness to end, my transition to being complete, and for one night not to cry myself to sleep. I think what makes suicide so appealing is that it’s something I have infinite control over. However, where does my soul go from there?!?!

In reality, I want to take my last breath at 96. I want to be a girl dad, philanthropist, pastor, theologian, scholar, first black queer trans senator from Connecticut, maybe Governor, and more. I dream of opening a school for foster care youth that gives them their life back, keeps them connected with their siblings, and gives them the opportunity not to be a statistic. I want to be a professor at community colleges not for the money but to show the students who believed they couldn’t make it that there is so much more to life and you (they) can do this.

I dream of hearing the words “dada. papa”

as my therapist says, none of this can happen if I’m dead. So I’m just holding onto the cross, worshipping at the feet of Christ, praying for strength, humility, serenity, and happiness.

End.