Helping hands were offered to me.

That is the last memory I have. After so much suffering, I did not think twice: I threw myself into those hands, as a son into his father or his mother’s arms.

Among light and darkness, I have seen something like a hospital that could rescue me. Even submitted to slow treatment, I often tried to minimize the thoughts without success, when speechless, eyes, arms and legs did not obey.

I do not know how long it lasted, but, with the nurses' help, I am gradually rebuilding my history. My name is Manuel. When I was 24 years old, I committed suicide with a gunshot against the head. It is the reason my memory often fails, but gradually I am rebuilding my own life.

Through that work, I learned the destruction of life is fast; the readjustment is difficult, slow and painful.

I believe I will get to recount all my history; but, while it does not occur, I am grateful to God for those hands offered to me, as doors to a "new life", after the suicide that threw me into pain and.

Manuel, GESJ - 07/24/12 - Public Meeting - Vitoria/ES - Brazil.