Why This Matters to Noblelee

It was very cold and rainy. I was stumbling through the woods in a drug fueled state, lost and thrown to the side completely out of touch with my “normal” life, certain I was not meant to be alive. I tried to walk out of the woods. It seemed as if I were going in circles. Could it be years going by? I had been here...familiar, yet so strange. My head was throbbing, I was trying to make sense of it all. Bleeding and breathing but so far from alive. They don’t love me, right? I deserved to have my Son die, right? Stop trying to warp my mind. Something, Someone give me the strength to fight. When you finally survived all those battles making it out of the woods that night, there should have been help, someone who cared right? But what you get is the door shut on you. You're a drug addict, a menace to society, you must have done something to deserve what you are being served. Please someone just look into my eyes. There is a good heart in there; just give me a try.

I never had an outstanding life but thought despite all the childhood trauma I would give

it a good try, although I felt like a nobody in most people’s eyes. My biggest dream and

accomplishment in my eyes was to be a Mom, and at 40, that dream finally came true. Things

were wonderful, a happy shot at life and boom, just like that, my baby suffocated and he died. I am not going to say much more on that, but tears are welling up in my eyes...if I could just smell him one more time. I wept in his nursery for days in a fetal position - just please let me die! His father got out of prison and convinced me to move away, so I packed a bag and headed two states away. For two years, I lived under the bridge staying high and trying to figure out why my beautiful boy had to die. I had not seen my family for nearly 2 years.

When I finally made it to that shelter, I met someone who hugged me and said, "Come in. It

will be alright." I breathed and thought, where have you been all my life? From there, I got help getting into a Native American Treatment Center, and there the first layer of healing began. I could let you know that I am bi-polar and have PTSD, but everyday I get up and breathe without my baby boy with me. Society, do you want to throw some more labels on me? I see so many women lost and tossed just like me, but I got up and want to help them see that they can do the same.

I hope I can reach out and touch someone with my story. Please, people, STOP judging.

Try listening, show some compassion. I want them to know they do have a voice and they do

matter. If you haven't lived with mental health disorders and the death of a child, don't talk as if you know, and if you're not supporting me, just leave me be. That beautifully scarred woman walking around lost no one wants to listen to or lend a hand to is somebody's daughter and a child of God. What keeps me going is this day I know that there are holes in the floors of heaven and my boy is smiling down on me, so proud of the mommy he can still see: forever in my heart my baby you will be.

Let me ask you how I can help you on your path to recovery. You ask me why it matters

to me? Because when my road was so long and darkness was setting in, I was reaching, but no one would let me in. I am here to talk about it and find a solution and let the broken hearts know this is a battle they can win. Can we all do our part to make this journey easier?

#why