We are anti-suicide activists and we provide support for those who need it the most!
“Suicide does not end the pain, it just passes it on to someone else.”
~ Suicide Prevention
Suicide is not a decision that happens over night, people who are thinking about suicide feel isolated. If you are feeling alone, misunderstood and like you are a burden to your family then I would like to tell you that it is not too late to find your way back. Suicide is not the solution to the way you are feeling, there is always hope and we at I am not a mistake foundation would like to help you! We have two 24 Hour Helplines for those in need.
Please phone anyone of the above helplines or email us directly to get the help and support you need!
Let us walk this journey with you and give you the support and guidance to finding hope again. We understand that it is not just one negative experience that has brought you to this point, it is several negative experiences happening over a period of time, anything from the death of a loved one, losing your work, finding out you are terminally ill, chronic pain and much more…
PLEASE, we are not saying it will be easy but we have been there in that dark place, we know it is dark and the road ahead seems unbearable, but we promise you, with love, support and the grace of God you can live a truly blessed life!
I put myself under so much pressure until finally, I could not bear the depression any longer. 21 January 2015: I took a 160 sleeping tablets at 19h00. I was discovered by my housekeeper and my mother the next morning at 08h00. I was rushed to Hospital. My family was told that I would not make it……..but I did. This did not make sense to me. I had planned this perfectly.
Have you ever been so hurt and felt so unwanted that you could not carry on? People rush to judgment, saying that it is a coward’s way out. But let me tell you: IT TAKES GUTS. You know you are going to die. Fear departs. Your desperation to escape the pain, the constant seeking of acceptance and somewhere you belong consigns you to determination to end it all. Yet, your actions are ego-centric – your legacy becomes the pain and carnage you leave behind. The ones left behind have to deal with your demise.
As I am sitting on my bed, surrounded by boxes and boxes of sleeping pills, I want to, for the last time in my life, put pen to paper and write down all the pain, rejection and constant emotional abuse of those who had had a hand in my unbearable pain. It feels as if I just cannot swallow 160 pills fast enough – while still trying to have my last cigarette before I DIE!!!!!
I have done my research and I am confident that I WILL NOT BE COMING back. It might sound strange that I almost feel superior in the knowledge that I will leave this earth ON MY TERMS. I will ensure that, for the last time, I leave behind a detailed suicide note.
I blamed the people I love in my suicide note – “nice work girl! So your final words and the lasting memory you leave behind is to leave people with an everlasting feeling of guilt. You are HURTING people!”
I can feel myself falling asleep and, cigarette in h-a-n-d…. In the background, I hear voices. I can’t seem to open my eyes. What is this? What is happening? As time passes, I try to comprehend what is going on. I hear my boyfriend’s voice. Am I in Hell? Is he dead too? He belongs here for the emotional abuse I had suffered for 16 years at his hands. It makes sense then, hearing his voice. But what happened to him that he is here? Serves you right!
Wait a minute: who is that? I hear another voice… it’s his brother and sister-in-law. Why are they here and who do all the other voices belong to? I am confused. I am dazed. I am not in Hell. Or am I? No. No. No! How is this possible? Shock and disbelief start crawling over my body like hungry caterpillars devouring me. They leave me cold. How is this possible? How did I not die? Am I that useless, that I cannot even commit suicide?
Then….. Nelie the Great kicks in and I decide to discharge myself from the Clinton Hospital. I do not want to be committed to the Psychiatric Hospital for observation. After all, I am a Businesswoman and have to start an international Company within a week. This catastrophe can ruin my career.
I got home. I went to bed. I slept. My mother and my housekeeper woke me up in the afternoon to fill me in on the events. Both of them confirmed that I had taken the pills on Wednesday, 21st of January 2015 at 19h00 and Brenda found me on Thursday, 22nd of January 2015 at approximately 08h00. Out cold. On the floor. She called my mother in a panic. My boyfriend had called early in the morning and when I did not answer, he called an ambulance on route to the house.
Now, ever more broken, I had to face the music. I tried to be strong. I showed no remorse. I did not want to discuss the situation. All concerned parties had read the “suicide note” and were very much aware of my emotional state and my feelings. That much was clear. I contemplated my life sagely. I grew angrier and more disillusioned with each passing day. I went to my GP about a month after the suicide attempt, to have my kidneys and liver checked – I was convinced that I had to have severe damage.
I was stunned to be informed that all of the tests had come back normal. For a fleeting moment, I realized that what had happened to me was a “Miracle”. I entertained the thought (briefly) that God has the only power to decide over life and death. (I was raised by good Christian folk).
In the meantime, I was setting up a new Company in South Africa and I was under immense pressure to ensure that implementation was done on time and to increase revenue by growing the business.
As the days become months, my life again spiraled out of control. My boyfriend – true to form – had again left without a word. Gone. No reason. No explanation. Just gone. I harbored a seething hate toward him. I was inordinately angry. I felt rejected and broken. I mustered all of my energy to at least again be successful in my career (it made me feel superior).
It was a Thursday morning: 4th of February 2016. I arrived at my office at 05h00 as I habitually did. I switched on my computer to commence my work for the day. I sat in my chair staring out onto my balcony. For the first time, I knew that I needed GOD. I don’t cry…..but I starting to cry like a little baby. Through tears and a maze of confused emotion, I screamed at God:
“God! I am broken! I am hurt! I am alone! I am helpless and scared! I have never trusted any person – not even myself – but God, I reach out to You!”
I raised my right hand and with visceral tears and emotion, I begged God to let me TRUST HIM. To help me to get out from this basement, as I cannot carry on living another day in this chaotic anguish. I humbled myself and pleaded with God. I committed to giving it my all if he would just show mercy and help me to understand why I am so broken and feeling as if I am a MISTAKE!
For the first time in my lif,e I had acknowledged that I was broken, scared and full of fear. I had to admit that I had a choice to make that day which included ME GIVING IT MY ALL. I had to trust God. It dawned on me that He loves all of us equally. He had never left my side, nor will He leave yours.
I AM NOT A MISTAKE! YOU ARE NOT A MISTAKE! We only make mistakes. Once I had broken through this barrier, all that was festering inside of me for 51 years, just started rolling from my lips and onto paper.
From that day forward, I still pray daily. I started dealing with a mountain of issues. I am not standing here to tell you that you are now in the clear and all is well. NO. I soon realized that this “FIXING NELIE PROJECT” would be the hardest project I had ever had to start and finish. But it would be my crowning glory. My legacy.
I had begged plenty of times for mercy. The process of removing mask after mask, until I stood bare, was harrowing….. but the destination of recovery, happiness and peace made all momentously worthwhile.