That ‘trip’ lasted a full 3 months.
3 months in complete psychosis and on the road.
3 amazingly terrifying months.
I’m not going to share all the details of my trip as some of the encounters I will hold dear to my own memories. . .
But I can tell you something. The day I crossed the border into Nova Scotia, tears flooded my eyes and within seconds, the rain broke the 23-degree sunshine and flooded from the heavens.
Whether it was meaningful in any way to anyone else does not matter, because it will be eternally meaningful to me.
I had made it.
I had come through all the obstacles, I let the voices guide me to here, to a new version of me. I had now completely walked away from my grief and pain and was ready to run at life with everything I had.
As I watched the rainbow form overhead, I kissed my dog and I swear to god she spoke to me. She told me it was ok, things were going to be ok from here on out. We had each other, we had this and we were finally going to be happy.
I just can’t even describe the feelings, pure raw emotions that were pumping through my veins in that very moment. At that moment I had never felt so alive and for the first time since I was 11 years old, I told myself that suicide was not ever going to be the answer. That no matter what came my way, I would stand strong and overcome it.
Right then and there I knew it could be a wonderful life.