Its only one story.
If patient keeps up this type of behavior than there is little hope of any recovery.
Telling people about how Noah preposed is always difficult. I always tell the story because it was me that came to him. I always say this:
I was going to his school and it was really hard. because walking into a place I hadn't been in for four years, a place with not a lot of good memories..it wasn't a good feeling. I felt trapped again. But as I saw him I knew this was the thing to do, I had to give one last message before I could say I tried everything. I had everything I needed; a copy of my file, the chat printed out, and a list of websites. His table looked up, they all knew I was here for a reason. My friends stayed quiet, and his one friend moved over to make a seat for me. I said "We need to talk Noah". He looked up with a pissed off expression and said "The hell we don't, I have nothing to say to you or to anyone else about what I've done" I looked at the others at the table. I knew they were as upset as I was that he wouldn't talk about the cutting. I unzipped my bag and pulled out my file. He looked at me and said: "A file? Will it have the list of reason why people hate me or why I should go on?" I looked at him and said "Its mine....Its from the Rehab Center I went to, I got a copy of it" He opened it. The Doctors notes, the photos, the prescription notices, everything, they all came out. It felt weird sharing my personal life with every person at the lunch table. He looked at the photos first, tracing the scars and cuts on my arms, than on his own. He looked up "Why...why are you showing me this?" He looked at the Doctors note on my admittance form. He threw it down and said "Leave." I picked it up and started reading. "Patient is severally depressed, she has self-inflicted woulds covering her arms. Her opinion of herself is that 'I am not worth anything, so why should people waste time trying to save my life? Why bother when all I am is broken and in the dark. Just let me die, and die alone.' Patient will not accept any medications, or counseling of any type. If patient keeps up this type of behavior than there is little hope of any recovery." No one talked, but everybody was looking at me with a look in their eyes. A look filled with pity, fear, hope, and shame. I never thought I would let any of these people know what I had done to myself and what I had tried to do. Noah looked up at me and said "Why are you bothering with trying to save me?" I reached into my bag took out the chat and started reading. "I hate when you bash yourself, I hate when you cut, when you waste the life you've been given. I hate when you call yourself worthless and ugly, because your worth the most to me out of anyone in the world and your so beautiful its like watching the sun set when you smile. I hate when you do drugs, because it makes you a different person. I hate when you have sex with all those guys because I know that you were made to be pure and whole full of life, happiness, compassion and love. I want you to be there always, I want you to be the one i look at and say 'I do'. I wanna make you breakfast in bed and say honey its our anniversary lets get a babysitter for the kids. I love you, and I KNOW God loves you." He looked at me and said "What lovesick retard said that?" I set the chat down on the table and look into his eyes so he could see I was not lying and said "You did, the summer of our 8th grade year YOU said that to me. I was going to kill myself and was saying goodbye and you already had it in a email and sent it to me. I walked into the ER and said 'Im depressed I need help, can someone help me?' You were there after that for the rehab and the counseling" I stood up, and took off my jacket. Every person in the cafeteria was looking at me now. I extended my left arm that had twenty or even thirty scars. I said "I did this to myself because I was afraid I was alone and God didn't love me because what I had done was sinful" I extended my right arm which had a tattoo. People had been coming over to look at my one arm and when they saw my right, they sighed with relief. In block letters were the words "To Write Love On Her Arms". I said "I got the idea from a shirt I saw on one of the nurses have at the rehab center. I handed him the list of websites for suicide hot-line, help with depression, and clinics and centers.
I sat down and took his hands, I never thought i would actually tell his this after four years of never seeing him. We were seniors, ready to challenge the world after graduation. I took a deep breath and said "Noah I love you. Not a day has gone by when I haven't loved you. Even though you stopped seeing me and talking with me I still love you. You saved me from my dark place, you pulled away the curtain that showed me the light, I told you to show me one reason why I shouldn't die, and you told me it was because you needed me to live with you and because God loved me as the imperfect, bruised, cracked and scared person I was. The same person that has so much to offer the world, because everyone is like a puzzle piece and we all fit in the same puzzle, so why not live to make a picture of my own." No one talked it was like one of those movies where the hero tells the victim that life really isn't all that bad. And the hero does this in front of a million frantic reporters hungry for a story. Noah looked at me and said "Things are different now." It felt like I was being stabbed, but at least I had tried everything. I gathered my stuff, and stood up. "Noah, you are worth is to me, and worth it to God." I started to walk away when he said "Wait, I said things are different now, because now I know that you love me, and that your willing to love me even now." It was one of those moments where time stops, and everyone around you fades away, and you realize that God gave you this person just so the two of you would have someone else to live with. It was one of those moments you look back at and realize wow, I made a difference and I believed in God to guide me. I had the power. Noah got on his knees and said "Marry me?"
Then Noah usually starts talking about how we went to college together, how we got married when we both had our degree. We talk about the counseling he went through and the triumphs and the glory of God. What we never tell people is looks on the faces of our family and friends when we told them we were engaged. Everyone said it was stupid, full of dangers, and clearly hopeless. Noah and I never believed that. So we told the story at our wedding and again to the youth at our church, and the Christian school he had gone to. To the youth Noah always told them this: ""My wife has two things that are permanent on her body: the scars of when she cut herself, and the words on a t-shirt, that one woman wore to work, without ever knowing what it meant to her 14 year old patient." To our elders that warned against our marriage "We proved you wrong and proved God right." When we shared our story to the youth at our church, which was more than 100 kids, at the end all of them stood and applauded and cheered and screamed "praise the Lord who has saved us." We talked with girls that had been raped, had eating disorders, kids that cut themselves, kids that had horrible lives at home, kids that were bullied at school...So many kids with so many stories. And all because of a Gmail chat with a suicidal girl and loved-filled boy. God saved the two of us, and God saved many kids we talked to. God saves us in our darkest times and our our brightest times. Our story started when we got married and it will end with our legacy we hope to leave behind.