Thursday, 2 June 2016

Life After Suicide

TW; Suicide/Self Harm

Last year - I wanted to die; less than a year ago in fact, it started in September. I remember I woke up one day, and it was a Saturday and it was raining outside and I could hear people laughing and I thought; I want to die. Nothing happened to make me think it, it just sprang into my mind - and from that first day, it was nearly impossible to stop it springing back up again and again. Then, on a Tuesday afternoon in October it all changed - I didn't just want to die, I was going to kill myself. I could do it, people would be better off without me - I couldn't hack life going on like this and this was my one and only way out. It wouldn't be quick or easy but it was my only way out, and it was my best option; or so I thought.

That night led to me breaking down; I cried and admitted how I'd been feeling for so long, my parents had to make an hour and a half round trip to come and collect me from where I was staying and I sobbed and yelled and apologised, then I slept and got dragged to an urgent mental health assessment. In my head this would be the end - naive, but I thought that now I'd asked for help, I would get better. I wouldn't spend every day fantasising about ways to kill myself, I wouldn't hurt myself anymore, I'd get better. This wasn't the end though, it was the start of one of the hardest parts of my life. There was little people could do to help, my antidepressants were swapped and I was sent on my way to cope, but I didn't cope.

I spent the next few months being reckless - swinging between doing everything I could to avoid living (sleeping in, never leaving the house, avoiding people as much as humanly possible) to actively putting my life at risk, being careless and cutting myself in places I shouldn't, and far too deep. I was reckless and I wanted to die so much that I didn't even care that I was being dangerous. I refused to talk to my friends, refused to talk to my parents - I wanted out and it was consuming my life to the fullest extent possible. I wanted to die so much that, although I wasn't willing to make that final step (or so I told myself, but there was more than one thinly veiled attempt in that time); I was straight out refusing to live.

Between then and now, I've had a break up, made a ton of new friends, completed a course of therapy and I can honestly sit here and say; I don't want to die anymore. It's been a long, uphill journey and I felt like I've had to claw my way up most of the hills - but I got here; alive, and fucking happy more times than not. I don't know what changed it; weeks of crying in therapy maybe, moving back in with my mum and dad, taking care of myself better - but it changed and I am so thankful that in October, and the months that followed, I didn't kill myself.

It was the darkest time of my life, and death was all I wanted and I would have gratefully accepted it back then - but now I'm so glad that I lived. I chose to live, and now I'm thankful for it when I see the smile on my cousin's face when I pick her up from preschool, or when I'm laughing about the fact I seem to lose a sock every time I'm at a certain friend's house, or every time I send a message of support to someone else and I feel like I've managed to make the tiniest bit of difference. In that time, I chose a different option when I thought that death was my only one, and it's brought me to here - and I'm thankful for it every day.

Every day, I am grateful for the fact that I got a life after suicide.

Sammy xo.

If you need help with suicide or self harm, please know that you can always turn to the Samaritans here

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