I went out for a run. I think it was a spring day, mid-morning, sunny. I had my music on. I wasn’t feeling particularly depressed. I had just come to feel in general that I shouldn’t expect or hope for anything from life. Or maybe not quite – I had learned to expect pain. After I grew up, my life had gotten better in fact, but I still dealt with the scars of depression and deep anxiety on a daily basis.

A song came on – a familiar one – “We Live” by Superchick. I had never thought much about that song before, other than it had a good beat.

Since all my prayers for God to take my life hadn’t worked, and I didn’t seem to have the nerve to make an attempt, Life and I had come to a stalemate: I would enjoy it when it was enjoyable. I would relish every experience. But I would be ready and willing to let it go at a moment’s notice.

I find as humans, we often envision things. Sometimes those moments are voluntary, where we are trying to envision a circumstance going the way we want it, such as winning a game. Sometimes scenes just come to us. It was the second circumstance with the scene I describe in the poem. I often envisioned (a form of imagination, in my book) being in a life-threatening situation and taking a chance on the gunman. If I unbalanced him by the bold move, I would survive; maybe even have leverage. If he shot me, I would be free. There would be a little bonus to that freedom by pissing off the gunman and not letting him get the better of me. When I would watch a movie where the female character is begging and crying in this situation, I used to get so angry. I would NEVER do that!

So as I ran along listening to a song about life and its gifts, this scene began playing itself in my mind.

Suddenly something changed: as the gunman cocked the pistol against my head, instead of straightening up and defying him as she usually did, my avatar sank to her knees, tears running down her cheeks. Please don’t shoot me! I want to live!

As soon as I saw myself say those words, a paradigm shift happened inside me that I can’t explain. I only know that from that moment, I wanted to live. I had never before felt the desire to live in my entire life.

I know it was real because there were unintended side effects! For instance, I became more nervous or afraid to do things for thrills that used to have no effect on me whatsoever. I drove at slower speeds; was more careful in my daily routines.

I could not tell you – to this day I have no idea how such a thing as this is possible. I have no choice but to believe it was a miracle. That was 2015. I was 32 years old.

To read the poem that came from this experience, click here: https://kellyhanwright.com/2020/03/25/life-is-such-a-gift/