4. When all hope is lost

A story of love, abuse, and loss. And the words that saved my life.

“They were things for which it was impossible to prepare but which one spent a lifetime looking back at, trying to accept, interpret, comprehend. Things that should never have happened, that seemed out of place and wrong, these were what prevailed, what endured, in the end.” -Jhumpa Lahiri, The Namesake

I made it to the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a windy, cold day with grey skies and dark clouds, worse than most days in San Francisco. I walked past hundreds of people staring at the beauty of the bridge, which felt like a lone bright star surrounded by darkness. But in this sea of people I felt completely alone. Nobody around me could tell how much pain I was in. I prided myself in my ability to hide my tears. As I stood there and looked down below at the water, I thought:

This could be it. You can end all your pain right now. You can forget his painful words, his abuse, and just end it.

I closed my eyes for a few minutes and thought to myself. So much had happened. His words had completely engulfed me and made me hate every inch of my being. His yelling, his abusive comments when I cried, his uncaring and cold stare, it was all there. I couldn’t escape it.

I opened my eyes and thought. This is it.

But right before I was about to make the leap, as I stared at the glimmering water below, a quote from one of my favorite authors, Jhumpa Lahiri, came to mind. It was a passage I had read over and over again because of the beauty of the writing. I had never thought about it until now. But taken out of context, these words somehow felt like they encompassed my being:

“The sky was different, without color, taut and unforgiving. But the water was the most unforgiving thing, nearly black at times, cold enough, I knew, to kill me, violent enough to break me apart. The waves were immense, battering rocky beaches without sand. The farther I went, the more desolate it became, more than any place I’d been, but for this very reason the landscape drew me, claimed me as nothing had in a long time.”

These words gave me meaning again. They became the pillars I relied on for support to handle the unending turbulence of suffering inside my body. They were dark but empowering, fearful but filled with depth. I realized that while I wanted to die, in that moment for the first time, I was captivated by the present moment. I was truly living. It didn’t make sense. How could wanting to die make you feel alive? But when I delved deeper into my thoughts and continued to look at the world around me, I realized that I was captivated and mesmerized by the very darkness that was eating me up inside.

“Too much information, and yet, in her case, not enough. In a world of diminishing mystery, the unknown persists.”

My story isn’t just unique to me

I was in a very emotionally abusive relationship for almost three years. I was constantly yelled at and I cried for days on end after every verbal insult he threw at me. He knew he could take advantage of me because of all the love in my heart, so he constantly hurt me without thinking about my pain. And in the process I lost all my self-esteem. I lost everything I had spent years trying to build. I had nothing in me left to give. I could not stop blaming myself thinking that I could have done more. I could have been more loving. I could have been more submissive.

“And yet it felt like an invasion of the part of his body, the physical sense that was most precious: something that betrayed him and also refused to abandon him.”

I was hospitalized due to health problems because of the incredible stress on my body. I suffered from heart tremors and abnormal heart beats. So much was going on that I had no time to process anything. I wanted to die because I wanted all the pain to end. My body wasn’t strong enough. My mind wasn’t strong enough.

I am not alone in this suffering. Studies show that women internalize relationship problems and blame themselves more than men do. This is mainly because of the history of oppression against women, who were historically more submissive to their male partners. More women have been in abusive relationships and have stayed in them despite continued abuse. And emotional abuse often turns into physical abuse.

“I am who I am, she would say, I live as I do because of you.”

Our relationships do define us, and when they are poisonous and hurtful, recovery feels almost impossible. As someone who loves deeply, I have suffered from the internalization of abuse. I have felt at fault for other people’s behavior. I went down a deep black hole and wanted to end life so I did not have to feel so much anymore.

“He felt the chill of her secrecy, numbing him, like a poison spreading quickly through his veins.”

The depression that some face from relationships can be numbing. Women are three times more likely than men to attempt suicide. I have been there and I know how it feels. You feel completely alone, constantly ruminating, until one day you decide you can’t take it anymore.

When you hit rock bottom

I want to talk about suicide because it is a matter near and dear to my heart. I have friends who have died from suicide. I know some women who have contemplated suicide after a break up with a romantic partner. And the sad thing is nobody talks about it. When you are suicidal you are often told to get over it, deal with it, or just move on. There is often a loss of compassion for people who are feeling this way. It’s hard to see what is inside. For me, literature helped open up my wounds to fully understand what I was feeling. But for others who feel like they cannot talk or that nobody cares, it’s often very scary to understand how to live after a traumatic experience.

“Certain creatures laid eggs that were able to endure the dry season. Others survived by burying themselves in mud, simulating death, waiting for the return of rain.”

Most suicide victims believe that nobody cares. This may be because of unkind words, abuse, or trauma. I have definitely felt this way before. But the truth is that people do care and it is often very hard to see it. We all have a support system, even if it is just one person.

If there is anything I have learned from my experience, it is that the people who truly love you will be there. They will care. It is hard to believe when everything feels very dark, but they are there. So this week, I designed something that I wished I had when I was at my lowest point. It’s simple, but I know that if I had it earlier, I would realize all the love I actually had in my life.

Reaching out to your support system

The idea is this: if you are in a bad place and you want to reach out, you can send a message to your entire support system. These are people in your favorites list. Ideally these people should be found based on who you talk to the most, but for the sake of this discussion, let’s assume the people you care about the most are on your favorites list.

These are the design principles:

1. Provide a fast way to let people you care about know you are in a crisis.
2. Give people the opportunity to contact you quickly in the case of an emergency and support you.

When you type “support system” you automatically get a message sent to everyone in your favorites list. Your current location is also sent to them.

On your side, it appears as a group chat. On the receiver side, it appears as a one-on-one chat. They also get the option of calling you right away. If they respond to your message, it appears as a one-on-one chat back to you.

This solution may not work for everyone, however, it is a quick way of letting a group of people know how you are feeling. And when you feel hopeless, often times it’s hard to even do that. But giving people the chance to be by your side during tough times can be the make it or break it. It’s these people who lift us up and give us life again.

I promise you, you are not alone

To everybody out there going through a similar situation, I want you to know that you are not alone. If anything I am here for you. I am living proof that it can get better. I am not 100% there yet, nor will I be for a while, but I am trying to live every day. I am trying to be more resilient.

“The future haunted but kept her alive; it remained her sustenance and also her predator.”

Rock bottom is not a great place to be. And I don’t want to give you a bunch of cliche quotes about how there’s nowhere to go but up, or it’s such a solid foundation. Because when you are there it doesn’t feel solid. It feels like you are drowning. None of it makes any sense. But the way I dealt with it is writing down what I wanted to do in my life. I read it every day. Whenever I felt bad, I read it. Whenever hope seemed to run out I read it. It wasn’t easy. Sometimes I wanted to tear the paper apart. But knowing that the best days of my life could be ahead was what kept my head up.

A good friend of mine told me to give myself 100 days. To write out how I was feeling each day and one good thing I did. Even if it was simple like making coffee in my french press, to write it down. After the hospital, it was hard to do anything. It was hard to even walk, let alone plan to do things in the future. But it was my support system that helped me. They read my writing with me, they listened to me cry, they gave me flowers during my darkest periods. They helped me understand that just because one person did not care, did not mean that the rest of the world was the same way too.

“She wished the days and months ahead of her would end. But the rest of her life continued to present itself, time ceaselessly proliferating.”

So when you lose hope, let the people around you know. Give them a chance to help. Even if you don’t know how they will react, the people who matter need to see you at your worst. They need to see your darkness. And trust me, the people who matter will not leave you. Choosing life is the ultimate victory. It will not be easy, I know. Every day is still a struggle for me. But I feel incredibly lucky to have chosen life. I now believe that the magical moments I have been waiting for have still yet to come.

So to the person who tore me apart, and led me down the darkest alley, here’s to you:

“She supposed that all those years of loving a person who was dishonest had taught her a few things.”

This is part 4 of a year long series on design that improves the lives of women. Follow 52 Weeks of Design for Women to stay updated.