Tears--I could not cry for years, and then the weeping would not stop, as I sat on the floor, rolled up in a ball, longing to die, longing to slit my wrists. Savagely I hated myself, I loathed myself. I was falling more deeply into the abyss, hurtling toward suicide. I asked Saint Dymphna to pray for me. I found healing. I am thankful for the medication that brought neurochemical healing. The Lord Jesus, risen from the dead, has brought something even deeper, existential healing, in the inmost depths of my tormented being.
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