Happy Friday Friends... Woo Hoo the week has came and what an awesome productive week it has been here at Joanna International. I am excited about the new interns we had join our team, the projects we are working on and all of the women being impacted and working towards living their best lives. It feels so good to be doing what I love and am passionate about. Ever since I was a little girl and asked what I wanted to do one day I always repeated "I want to help people." I am blessed with my life, the wonderful people I work with and the motivation that fills me up to do even more and the very best I can each and every morning I get out of bed. This week I wrote a blog about my new friend Kristine Ross and her amazing story of HOPE and CHOOSING LIFE.... and as I promised I would stay on her about finishing her stories and then share them with you all.
Kristine got busy right after the blog published live and finished her first story to share with us titled "Fight." Now because I have had an extremely busy week and barely time to brush my own teeth I didn't read the story right away when she sent it because I didn't feel I had the uninterrupted time to give it my full attention between my work and a house full of my wonderful Romanian family just arriving for a visit!!! I really should take pictures or maybe shoot a video of what a day is like in my life... everyday is different and each full of wonderful surprises and unexpected visitors.... and between all the cooking, neighbor kids over playing with Micha you can just imagine what my house sounds and looks like:) Anyways so last night I took Micha over to play with his best little guy friend and finally had quiet time to sit, watch the boys play and read Kristine's story.... WOW..... Let me just prepare you that what you are about to read is so beautifully written and so powerful because Kristine has related her own personal story to this one. I was in tears last night with a big smile on my face because I was so touched by her story and amazing talent for writing. I am sure the Mom of Micha's friend was only wondering what in the world I was looking at or reading on my ipad because of my reaction. I truly believe Kristine has a very special gift to write and the message she can offer other girls and women going through or have been through similar situations could impact and help change many lives. I hope to have the chance to do some speaking events and workshops for middle school/ high school girls with Kristine when I visit Florida this year. Thank you to all of my followers who wrote encouraging words to Kristine and I promise once again I will stay connected with this talented and amazingly strong beautiful woman and continue to share her stories with you. So without further ado.... Here is Kristine Ross's short story "Fight"
Please leave your comment and thoughts for Kristine in the comments section below and share share share her beautiful story of HOPE!
If you missed part one of this story please go check out the blog below or click HERE
“The Fight" By Kristine Ross
With a light brush of wind Amy collapsed to the ground. Her tears had been so loud and so painful that they stole the very breath from her body. The chaos that consumed her mind had begun to fall apart and after 15 years of inner war she started examining her commitment to this life. “Okay. Take a deep breath” she said to herself while bringing her inner conflict between life and death into view. “This is temporary. We will get better. They will miss you.” Her hopeful inner voice reassuringly said.
Amy was not a teenager who followed religion and the concept of Heaven and Hell did not hold any meaning, in a religious sense, in her short life. Although, somewhere within the darkest parts of her pain she found him, the Devil, and he sat arrogantly upon her left shoulder and without disappointing, her inner Satan began taunting her “You’re too scared aren’t yeah? Chicken? Do it! I dare you.”
Distraught and scared she began to shiver and yet as ridiculous as this inner dialogue was she found herself intently listening, even taking notes, on the pros and cons of staying or going. The black ink from the pen she held in her twitching right hand fell unto the side labeled “Pros”. She scribbled down one reason, only one to stay and fight her torturous life. The word was simple, powerful, and despite her young age of 15, it was final. “Kids.”, the word repeated over and over in her mind as she saw the list continue to grow like weeds under her column labeled “Cons” and yet as those weeds kept sprouting these beautiful images of a future life danced around her and embraced her like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. She sobbed at the idea of never fulfilling the one thing that had kept her going all of those years. “No, no, I can’t. This is selfish, you just want love”.
The house was lit by the streetlights peering through each window blind as she walked toward the medicine cabinet in the kitchen. She was uneasy while going through her toxic choices, after all her Grandmother had heart and blood pressure medication on the shelf along with a very large bottle of sleeping pills. Surely mixing that combination would instantly end her suffering and yet, perhaps out of not wanting to take away from her beloved Grandmother or for fear that she may wish to change her mind after the deed was done, she grabbed only the sleeping pills.
With that a swift anger rushed out loudly and with confidence to remind her of why she was here, in this position at all. “No one cares about you. They ignore every move you make. You will never be loved. Wake up and do this. Stop this suffering!” Amy rushed back to her room, sat the bottle on her night table and felt her head fall into her hands. “Take a breath. Take a deep breath. This will pass. You don’t have to do this. Please find a reason to stop this.” These words echoed in her head while she sat, staring at the large bottle of pills she had taken out of the kitchen just moments ago.
Amy decided to empty the bottle onto the floor. She lined each pill up and methodically began counting them. 1, 2, 3…she wanted to make sure to take the right amount so that the process would be quick and painless. The numbers reached a staggering amount…80. Once every pill was counted she, yet again, found herself with that conflicting good vs. evil dialogue. She toyed with the ideas bouncing back and forth in her mind and sobbed uncontrollably with each word. Finally, and with force, she took her hand and placed it over a pile of pills, swiftly shoving them into her mouth. She wanted to avoid any hesitation and quickly swallowed every last one. The tears flowed once again.
She took an extra gulp of water and was instantly overcome with the most intense panic she had ever felt. “Oh my god, what have I done? I don’t want to die!” Her heart was racing, her breaths short as she gently went to wake up her Mother and urge her to follow her into her room. Amy sat on the bed with her Mother sitting right in front of her, hands placed gently on her knees. She was angry with Amy as they had gotten into another epic battle earlier in the day over Amy’s extreme anxiety over attending school. This anger only fueled her panic. She was scared and unsure of what to do but her Mother knew. She knew what Amy was thinking. “What did you do?” her Mother asked. “I don’t want to die Mommy!”
With assertion and a surprising sense of calmness Amy’s Mother quickly rushed her into the car and sped to the hospital. They arrived minutes later and were immediately rushed into the emergency room. The doctors and nurses began the daunting task of removing the poisons from her body. Amy choked as tubes were pushed down her throat ushering the contents of her stomach out. She couldn’t breathe and the fear began to magnify.
“Why did you try and kill yourself?” A doctor asked apathetically. “I wanted to know who loved me.” Amy looked into the eyes of the doctor who seemed annoyed by this encounter. “Well that was a stupid idea wasn’t it?” the doctor asked in a way that pushed Amy even further into her darkness. Amy couldn’t believe what had happened. She did it. She actually went through with it. Over the course of the next few days Amy found herself with a happiness she hadn’t felt in many years. She felt loved.
These feelings were short lived and as she continued her life she found herself questioning why she didn’t just finish the job all those years ago but her reason, her one reason, for staying in this life finally came to light. Decades of fighting herself to leave this life suddenly became new reasons to fight to stay in this life, to be present and live for these blessings she was given. Love never had such intensity until that moment; the moment she gave birth.
I am shaking as I write this as it is by far the most intimate thing I have ever shared with anyone in my life other than those who experienced this with me. The only fictional piece of this story is the name of the character. Everything else happened exactly as it is written.
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