In April,i had casually asked Onyinye what she would do if I committed suicide. She told me she’d never forgive herself, that she’d wonder for the rest of her life, why she didn’t see the signs, why she never deduced that I was on the verge of a breakdown, tethering on the brink of something best left unsaid.

Earlier,In February, I had  read Jennifer Niven’s All the bright places  and wondered what would happen if I took my life, like the protagonist, Theodore Finch had.

May was difficult. I had personality clashes with my father. He told me I wasn’t contributing enough to his business, and that my lackadaisical attitude towards his business was costing him much. I didn’t understand. I was putting in my best, or so I thought.

 Sometimes, he said hurtful words to me in the heat of his anger. It wasn’t supposed to get to me, but it did. I respected  my father a lot and sought his approval. Failing constantly to meet his standards made me miserable. I was trying so hard to be like Onyinye, but the more I tried, the more I failed and our differences  escalated.

 I had come to Lagos with expectations. I felt getting an internship would be easy. I applied severally but wasn’t accepted. I was sure something was wrong with me. I couldn’t get an internship, and wasn’t doing well in my father’s business.

 Eventually, I got a writing job with  hotels.ng, but it didn’t work out.

All these horrible things happening to me at once- Personality differences with my dad and my failures- caused a deep sadness that wouldn’t go away. I was tired as I got out of bed each morning, dreading the day that has barely begun. I didn’t always pick my calls nor respond to WhatsApp messages and I began to battle this feeling of worthlessness.

Inside, I was withering. I couldn’t talk to anyone, they won’t understand. “How could they understand”, i reasoned when even I, myself,couldn’t?

 One Friday night in June , Jay called me.  He said he had a strong feeling that I wasn’t alright. I denied it, of course, but he pressed on,saying that I can rely on him. That phrase -that I can rely on him- was my undoing. I cried on the phone for nearly an hour, unable to say anything coherent. Jay stayed on the phone until my sobs subsided,then he told me to talk to someone, that my life was worth living.

I texted Onyinye on WhatsApp, and  said the words I never thought I would say.I told her I felt really sad and often found myself wondering, as my bus crawled in traffic on Eko bridge, what would happen if I jumped off the bridge. I expected her to reprimand me and say the usual things:  ” you’re a Christian, you’re not supposed to be depressed”, ” You’re resilient, how can u even think its depression? “

She didn’t and it was a surprise. She simply called me, asked me to try and describe how I felt and I ended up crying uncontrollably again. She let me cry and  when I was done, she told me to talk to a therapist online. Maybe she knew I wouldn’t, so she sent me a link to a class online and encouraged me to also speak to people I trust. I talked to my mentor, and Ada. I didn’t feel better immediately, but it was a step amongst many others towards  healing.

I left Lagos for four days. I can’t recall much of those four days, they passed in a blur. I was living on cue: eat, sleep, wake up and make conversation. My host understood. She saw how tired I looked,I guess  and didn’t probe. She told me I could stay as long as I wanted.

I still struggled with the dark thoughts and couldn’t  figure out how to get my dad to see me as i am. I still couldn’t understand why I wasn’t getting anything right.

On the third 3rd day, I spoke to God. Prayer is a two-way communication between the lesser and the greatest, between the suppliant created and the all powerful creator.But  on that day,I was anything but suppliant: I screamed at him, raved at  him,then  dissolved into tears,pleading.

 I wanted answers. He had promised to be here, I would never leave you nor forsake you, he had said, yet I felt alone.

With his help, I realized that I was building my esteem and sense of self on the things I’d hoped to achieve. Since I had achieved nothing, there was no self, no identity.

 It is okay to desire success, but it’s destructive to build one’s identity and self worth on it, and I was on that path.I was fixated on things that should be,there fore, neglecting what I could do with the present, no matter how unpleasant it is. I didn’t face the challenges of the moment head on, but mourned the loss of what I never had:of  how things should be.

 With my dad, I realized that we had a communication problem. Maybe I wasn’t doing as well as I should and he didn’t tell me what he expected of me the right way. Now when we have disagreements, I don’t snap and I try not to take the angry words to heart.

I cringe when I remember how I toyed with the thought of jumping across the bridge. Sometimes I feel ashamed.

I took my online therapy, read every article on depression at desiringgod.org. It was of immense help.

 I’m here  because I was able to speak up, to trust people with my weaknesses as much as I did my strength. There are still unpleasant days. But unlike before, I don’t wallow in self pity. When those days come, I call a friend, I read a novel, I listen to music, I write how and what I feel and yes, I tell God about it too. I don’t take failure to heart. Instead, I try to learn what I can do better next time.

PS: Hillsong’s In Control helped me a lot too, you can download on tubidy.com, and you can also read articles on depression and other topics on desiringgod.org.

Have ever had periods of intense sadness? I’d love to know how you made it through.