Suicide

So this is a big one huh. Suicide. Yesterday I saw a news story on Facebook about someone who had thrown themselves in front of a train at a local train station. The first 2 comments on the post were something along the lines of:

"How selfish and inconsiderate for the people left behind."

and "All those poor people who are going to be late for work now."

Wow. Just wow. If that is what enters your head when you read a story like that then you have obviously never known real emotional pain. It's hard to explain to someone who has never felt suicidal what that feeling is like. But if you think suicide is a selfish act, you are looking at it wrong.

A few years ago I was in an on-off relationship with a very abusive person, more mentally and emotionally than physically (not to say that he didn't drag me around by my ankle / push me / head butt me occasionally), living in a cold, dark, damp and mouldy apartment, and more depressed than I knew was even possible. I'd suffered with depression in the past and had thought about killing myself many times, but not to the point where I ever thought I'd be 'brave' enough to do it. I wanted to - but I didn't have the nerve, or that's how I thought of it at the time.

This period of depression was different though, longer, darker, more intense. During my relationship with this person I had lost or given up everything; my friends, my job, the nice apartment I'd been living in, I'd stopped speaking to the remaining members of my family I had relationships with because I didn't want them to know how badly he was treating me. I was utterly alone. He was all I had. I won't go into huge detail of the relationship now, that's a blog for another time, but not only had I lost everything around me, I'd also lost everything within me.

He'd destroyed my (already fairly low) confidence, my sense of self, my dreams for the future, my hope or belief that anyone but him could ever bear to love me, and any thoughts that I could ever live a life that wasn't full of pain - when I was with him it hurt, but when I was without him it hurt more, so either way, all that stretched in front of me was a life of pain. I would never be happy again.

We'd been going through a particularly bad patch and he had left, or I had asked him too, I don't remember now. So I was alone, in the cold, dark, damp, mouldy, empty flat. I had stopped going to the crappy temp job I'd been doing because I couldn't bear to get out of bed in the morning, or any time of day. I'd lost so much weight, because I couldn't bear to eat, my tummy felt sick and anxious 24 hours a day, and even the thought of putting food in my mouth and chewing was horrid. I wasn't even drinking anything. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally depleted. There was nothing. There was just nothing. This was my life now. Nothingness, on my own, in a mouldy cell, feeling sick. Nothing to do, nothing to look forward to, no day or night, no seasons, just existing, in a constant state of pain and anxiety.

One night I reached the end. I couldn't exist like this any more. I couldn't cope. I couldn't cope with the nothingness, and I needed someone to help me cope with the pain, even just for an hour or so, I needed him to help me cope with the pain, just temporarily. So I called him and begged him to come over and just sit with me for a bit, just to ease the excruciating loneliness. Not to be my partner again but just to ease the pain for a while, because he was the only person I could call, I had no friends or family left, and I couldn't be on my own any longer, I felt like I was in isolation and now I know why they use that as a form of torture, human brains are not wired to cope with that.

He said no. He was with his friend (we'll call her Sam - not her real name) and they had just ordered a pizza. 

I explained to him how bad things were, that I had reached my limit, I literally could not cope anymore, I've never threatened to kill myself or used emotional blackmail and that's not what this was, I was just being honest and I let him know that I had reached the end. He didn't come.

I just needed the pain to stop. It was the most excruciating pain I had ever felt and nothing stopped it, I couldn't sleep so that didn't stop it, I couldn't distract myself, it was all there was, and I needed it to stop. I couldn't bear to exist anymore. So I scoured my apartment for pills, I'd been prescribed sleeping pills over the last few years and thought they might be dotted about around the house. I pulled out cupboards, drawers, medicine boxes, under the bed and took whatever I could find. 

Obviously it wasn't enough. I woke up sometime the next day (I think) feeling horrendous. My tummy was so sore (I'd taken a bunch of Paracetamol and Ibuprofen too, which I guess disagreed with me) and I felt sick and nauseous. To be honest I have very little recollection of the next few weeks / months but eventually he and I got back together again, and then split up again, and so it went for a couple more years. The final time we split though I did things differently. I knew I could not face that pain again. I called people I hadn't seen for a long time, and y'know what, they were still there. I made new friends, I went out of the house looking like hell on Earth - but I went out of the house, I got fresh air, I saw other humans. I made myself eat, a little at first, and then built that up, I exercised, I looked after myself, and I let people look after me.

I cried in front of friends, I cried in front of strangers, I accepted help. And I became stronger than ever before. 

6 years later I am the happiest I ever remember being. Every single day I think about how lucky I am, how wonderful my life is. I have the most amazing husband, friends, job, home life. I've climbed mountains, I've completed triathlons, I've jumped out of planes, I feel so strong and so capable, an absolute 180 degree turnaround from who I was that night.
And if I had succeeded in taking my life, my poor husband would still be wondering around this life alone, never having found his soulmate! 

Wow I really hadn't planned for this to be so long, or to go into so much detail about what happened, but I really want anyone who reads this to understand 2 things:

1 - Deciding to end your life is in no way whatsoever a selfish, thoughtless act. You're not deciding to leave your children without a parent, or the company you work for without a secretary, or make train commuters late for work. You just NEED to stop the pain, and it's the only possible way you believe you can do that.

2 - There is always hope. Always. If I can go from the absolute 100% lowest a person can go, to the happiest I've ever been, then so can you. There is help. There is love. There is friendship. You are never ever really alone. If you are considering ending your life, please don't. Talk to someone, call the Samaritans, speak to a friend, call your doctor ( I know they're often not much help but some are brilliant). There IS a way back. I promise you.

Reading this I am aware that to some people it will seem very self-involved and attention seeking - get me, I'm so edgy, I tried to kill myself - but a while ago I posted something small on Facebook about depression and suicide and the same night 3 people sent me private messages thanking me for filling them with hope when they were feeling at their lowest, one of whom was contemplating suicide at the time.  So if it helps anyone at all then I'm happy, and anyone who has a problem with it can p*ss off.

#sorrynotsorry

Sending all my love to anyone who needs it xxxxx