Yesterday was World Suicide Prevention Day. I meant to post something, but I just didn't have the time or the spoons, mostly the spoons. I often tell some of my story on this day, not because I need support around my suicidality history, but because I want to normalize talking about suicidal thoughts, and I want for people who suffer from suicidal thoughts to know they are not alone.
I've been haunted by the thoughts, urges, obsessions with suicide since I was about 14. For the majority of my life there have been daily thoughts-not always driven by a true desire to exit, sometimes just habitual thought loops, sometimes First-Level responses to stressors. In other words, although the whispers are always there, they aren't always serious, sometimes just a low hum in the background that I'm aware of, but that I can function through.
But, there have been times when the volume has been turned up. Sometimes it just means that it's hard to have attention for anything else, sometimes I have been serious about planning my exit strategy. In more recent years (if you caught my entry a couple blogs back, more there) I've been working with a therapist who allows me to talk opening about where I'm at so we can work through my desire to permanently exit, rather than sending me straight to inpatient commitment. I appreciate having a therapist who gets that the only way to work through that shit is to talk about it with someone you trust.
Today I'll tell you the story of the first time I had a plan. My mom had left my dad and we had moved to Texas. It was an awful experience, and what few resources I had back home, I no longer had. I was haunted by untreated PTSD, I had no support system, my mother was constantly telling me how we had no money (to even buy the supplies I needed for school projects) while simultaneously sending Harley Davidson T-shirts, and leather vests and jackets to her boyfriend back in ND. I was alone, with no support system, and no hope that things would ever get better.
For weeks I'd been...looking forward to hanging myself. I knew I had to find a place that would be secure enough to do the job, and secluded enough that I wouldn't get caught, and I needed a sturdy rope. I had a mission, and each night after I got home from school I would walk around the trailer court for all of the above. Unfortunately, I was having little luck with finding any of those things. One night I finally decided that it was time to consider any means to do the job. It was decided. I had a new plan, I'd just have to wait until my mother would be gone long enough while I was home from school.
But then I had a dream. No one was there, no voices, really no sights either; just a feeling, a sense that suicide would not "fix" the problem, but more importantly a sense of peace, and a sense of touching the Divine. Perhaps it was just my psyche playing a little mind game to get me to stick around, or maybe I did indeed get a visit from the Divine, either way I decided to stay. And that moment got me through many more for the next couple of years.
All that to say, I just needed a little hope, and I needed to know I wasn't alone. If you're worried about a friend, invite them for coffee, remind them how much they mean to you. And don't be afraid to talk about suicide (just your reminder that saying the word doesn't "put it in their head"), break the stigma. When we can bring our darkness into the Light it loses it's power over us.
I'll be honest, I'm not always happy I stuck around, but right now I am. I am grateful for my life and for all the people I love and who love me. I'm grateful I clung to hope in the darkness.
https://988lifeline.org/