Losing a little sister is an all-consuming kind of pain, and I just want you to know—you are not alone. There are so many of us walking through similar heartbreak, even if it feels isolating.
In April 2024, I attempted to take my own life. I survived, and within hours my mom, my sister, and her husband—who live two hours away—were at my house. That night, we all sat together on my bed. I remember my sister asking me how I could do something like that, and whether I knew suicide was considered an unforgivable sin.
Through tears, I told her what I truly believed: that God forgives all sins. That in those final moments, when someone cries out, “God, I can’t do this anymore,” He knows their heart. I believe He meets them in that pain with understanding and mercy. And I also believe that when it isn’t our time, something intervenes. On August 1, 2024, my little sister went home alone and took her life.
When I got the call, I fell to my knees. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t understand how this could happen—especially after that conversation we had just months before. She was only 34 years old. At her funeral a week later, the room was overflowing. So many people loved her.
Seven days after we buried her, on August 14, I received another devastating call: my 14-year-old daughter had been arrested and charged with first-degree murder. Everything inside of me shattered. My days became filled with grief, anger, and a darkness I can barely put into words. Then, on September 18, I discovered a video in my husband’s email—he had been with another woman. That was the moment I felt completely broken. Hopeless. Alone. Like there was no way out. I attempted to take my life again. I had barricaded myself in a room. I don’t know how long I was unconscious before my husband broke in and called 911. I remember waking up angry—angry that I was still here, angry that it hadn’t worked.But today, it’s March 2026. And I’m still here.I’m not okay. Most days are still incredibly hard.
In April 2024, I attempted to take my own life. I survived, and within hours my mom, my sister, and her husband—who live two hours away—were at my house. That night, we all sat together on my bed. I remember my sister asking me how I could do something like that, and whether I knew suicide was considered an unforgivable sin.
Through tears, I told her what I truly believed: that God forgives all sins. That in those final moments, when someone cries out, “God, I can’t do this anymore,” He knows their heart. I believe He meets them in that pain with understanding and mercy. And I also believe that when it isn’t our time, something intervenes. On August 1, 2024, my little sister went home alone and took her life.
When I got the call, I fell to my knees. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t understand how this could happen—especially after that conversation we had just months before. She was only 34 years old. At her funeral a week later, the room was overflowing. So many people loved her.
Seven days after we buried her, on August 14, I received another devastating call: my 14-year-old daughter had been arrested and charged with first-degree murder. Everything inside of me shattered. My days became filled with grief, anger, and a darkness I can barely put into words. Then, on September 18, I discovered a video in my husband’s email—he had been with another woman. That was the moment I felt completely broken. Hopeless. Alone. Like there was no way out. I attempted to take my life again. I had barricaded myself in a room. I don’t know how long I was unconscious before my husband broke in and called 911. I remember waking up angry—angry that I was still here, angry that it hadn’t worked.But today, it’s March 2026. And I’m still here.I’m not okay. Most days are still incredibly hard.
K E E P G O I N G.
Your story is not over. I don’t have the words to comfort. You have lived through many many many hard times. You are still here, keep going. Thank you for writing this, giving purpose for my day. If you can carry on so shall I. Suicide SUCKS. I am so sorry.