I've struggled with suicidal thoughts since fourth grade. I'm serious. I wouldn't know how/why a 9-year-old would experience that, but I did. I was in a terrible place called public school, and at that time it seemed the only way out was to end it all.

In fifth and sixth grade, I remained in the public school system that refused to accommodate me. Friendless, hopeless, constantly on my guard. But on the bus to and from school every day, I could rely on one thing, as long as my iPod had batteries: David Bowie.

In a world where the people hired to help me would do no such thing, someone far, far away who had no idea who I was always did the trick. It wasn't always easy and there were some close calls, but a voice on an electronic device didn't judge me. A person on a TV screen couldn't hurt me. A face on a poster would always be there for me. People thought it was weird that a 10, 11, 12, or 13 year old girl's world revolved around a British senior citizen, but that didn't bother me. Friends came and went, but I could find David Bowie whenever I needed him.

Of course, he did not and has not cured me. I'm on medicine for depression and anxiety. I receive therapy. I'd go weeks in a spiral of depression, but I bounced back. I still do that. David Bowie does not save my life every single time, but one time he did.

David Bowie stopped making albums in 2003 and stopped touring shortly after. Luckily for me, a new fan at the age of 10 in 2008, I had 36 years worth of albums to enjoy, among other things. Although I had left the evils of public school for a greener pasture that helped me a great deal, I wasn't "cured." The thrill of discovering new albums had disappeared after four years of obsession (although the obsession, of course, did not!). In 2012, I made a loose plan to end my life in 2013. I didn't know when I'd do it, but I was sure that I wouldn't live to see the age of 15.

On his 66th birthday, it was announced David Bowie had made a new album to be released soon. One of the songs, Where Are We Now, was released with the news. I don't recall exactly where I was or how depressed I was feeling at the time, but in seeing the wacky music video and hearing the song, unlike any one he'd made before, I knew that I'd have to stick around to see the rest of it. With the promise of a new album came a vision of the future. He was back. I took it as a sign that I'd have to withdraw from my plan and wait for what would happen next. I didn't believe in an afterlife. The only way for me to see it was to stay alive.

He didn't disappoint. The Next Day came out on March 8th, 2013. I downloaded it after a long day at school. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard before, and it made me feel alive. It was worth the wait. And it came with a promise: he wasn't done. He was only beginning.

While music videos came slowly and left me yearning for him to return to touring, just so I could see him for real, it kept me going. My life wasn't without its struggles and I didn't completely stop occasionally feeling suicidal, but one album helped me get over a hump that I couldn't handle on my own. The anticipation and release of his next and final album, Blackstar, had a similar effect on me my senior year of high school. But withoutThe Next Day, I might not have lived to see it.

There are some voids in life that need to be filled in order for it to go on, and there's a lot of things to fill them with. Drugs, reckless behavior, food, religion, anything. I often consider myself lucky that I chose David Bowie over something dangerous, and continued to do so. Losing him to cancer in January 2016 wasn't easy, but I had gotten to a good enough place mentally to realize that dying wouldn't be productive, and he wouldn't want me to do that as long as I could possibly help it.

Is it weird that I credit a British senior citizen that I never even got close to meeting for saving my life? Sure. But that's who I am—a weird girl who pulled herself out of the depths of hell with a little help. Therapy and medicine were essential and I couldn't have done it without them, but David Bowie filled a void that nothing else could. The Next Day gave me something to live for when it seemed I had nothing. I'm onto greater things now, but when I look back, an album is what to thank.