Suicide is one of the hardest things I have ever written about. Not because I am not familiar with suicide, but unfortunately, I am more familiar with it than I have led on to be.

This familiarity I have with suicide pulls directly at my heart and has a close emotional meaning to me.

See, the honest fact is my daughter during her first year of college tried to kill herself.

And this alone to me is heart wrenching to think about let alone write about.

Even though many years have passed since this suicide attempt, the memory of it is as vivid as the day it happened. 

Thoughts of myself running down the road to get to my daughter are still as fresh in my mind as the day it happened.

I remember the image of my daughter being put into an ambulance as I tried desperately to get to her. Finally reaching her, still unsure what happened, I got into the ambulance and saw this afraid young girl on the stretcher. As we rode to the hospital, I tried to comfort my daughter while trying to decipher the situation.

With police by my daughter’s side at the hospital, I was still confused at exactly what happened. Standing there was all I could do, still trying to piece together what had happened.

Going over the details of the scene, I couldn’t remember seeing any other vehicle. Nor did I recall seeing any other people involved in the accident.

All I kept envisioning is my car, the car my daughter used to go to take pictures in the park, off the road, with the front end completely smashed in.

When I finally had a chance to speak with daughter alone, she looked up at me nervous and frightened and said, “Ma, I tried to kill myself.” 

To be honest, I thought I was hearing things, until I realized I wasn’t. Holding back my tears, I didn’t know what to do to help her. She looked like a little girl to me so scared, reaching out for my help.

The shock of what happened was beginning to become reality. I knew she was depressed, unhappy with school, friends and everything at this time in her life. We just spoke about plans to change her college and explore other activities she could possibly do to get her through the semester.

But I never thought she was so desperate to end her life.

Trying to hold back my tears, I stepped away from my daughter to speak with the police regarding her accident. I never informed them of this information, this secret Nikki whispered to me. They assumed my daughter was texting, and I just let them believe that. I only wished that actually was the truth.