Megan Lea Nicole Carswell
Born January 3, 1994
Died April 15, 2018
That is how it would read… my obituary.
About seven months ago I was standing on a bridge contemplating what I thought would be my last decision. I have always been indecisive and never seem to be able to make choices with ease. In this instance however, that indecisiveness saved my life. My impulsiveness led me to the bridge, but my indecisiveness stalled for time. It was raining, each minute harder than the last, but my body was numb, and I did not seem to feel the water that washed my body. The water that I once danced in as a child, splashing in puddles and throwing footballs in the rain, would now be the last sensation to tickle my skin.
This scene is now a part of my story. A story of innocence lost and then redeemed again. A story of death leading to life. A story of hope coming to life amid tumultuous times. It is a story of light tackling the dark. And now I offer this story to you, to inspire and cultivate an atmosphere of raw vulnerability and humble confidence rising.
The walk to the bridge didn’t happen in an instant. It happened step by slow step. Just like there was not only one reason that led me to the bridge, rather it was more like a thousand. A thousand steps, a thousand reasons… each carrying me down the path that lonely night in the rain. Perhaps it was the bipolar, PTSD, cutting, sexual abuse, eating disorder, change, home life, school pressures, feeling lonely, feeling hopeless, being consumed by the darkness surrounding me, the memories and flashbacks… I cannot pin down for you all the steps and the reasons; I can only tell you they exist and overwhelmed me. Like I alluded to, a thousand steps and a thousand reasons. I’d like to tell you about those, but I am still processing them myself. I would like to invite you to walk with me through this journey because I have thousands of steps left to take.
Just like the walk to the bridge was a thousand steps, my journey to recovery has been a thousand, no, two thousand, okay probably more like five thousand steps. There have been hospitalizations, counseling, support groups, life coaching, moving cross country, and another partial hospitalization in the works… but the result is I am not giving up. The conclusion is that to every one thousand steps there might be to take your life, there are a thousand reasons why you should walk the other way, a thousand things to be grateful for, a thousand joy memories, a thousand reasons you are loved, there are a thousand glimmers of hope. The truest question is which one thousand will you focus on?
So, I give you the opportunity to walk with me in this crazy adventure of recovery. It scares me, but it is necessary. Will you help me find one thousand reasons to walk the other way? Follow me in this discovery by subscribing.
(This was originally posted January 2019 as
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