Trigger warning: suicide, self harm, depressive episodes, mildly graphic detail about the nature of my self harm
I was suicidal on and off (mainly on, but with short periods of off) for about two years. The first eight months or so after I realised I was depressed, I was just sad. The self harm thing didn’t come about for about four months after I realised, and then after it became a thing it became integral to my spiral downwards. Sorry, this post is gunna be a personal one, and it’s gunna be sad.
My suicidal tendencies weren’t so much in the form of me actively trying to kill myself, it was more of a ‘oh, i’ll take four painkillers even though the box says to only take one or two’, then googling the quantity needed to kill yourself, then thinking how many boxes that would be. They came in the form of driving along the long, straight road near my house and putting my foot flat to the floor until I was going nigh on sixty in a thirty zone with a tight corner approaching, and not being sure whether or not I was going to break until I was almost at the corner. I still do this now, even though I wish I didn’t. They came in the form of pressing a blade hard into my wrist, then the pain being too much for me to cut as deep as I was hoping I would be able to.
I don’t consider any of these to be suicide attempts. I don’t know if a medical professional would either, I’d assume not, but the fact that I don’t feel like I can talk about it to anyone makes it really difficult to get past it. I don’t talk about it to my friends, so I guess that’s what this blog is.
Thursday marked my nine months clean from self harm. In the midst of it, maybe December 2012, I went to see a shrink a couple of times. The appointments lasted around ten to fifteen minutes and she gave me homework. I saw her probably four times. I hated it. I’ve heard that therapy helps a lot of people, but I wasn’t and am still not ready to give it a chance, so that’s probably one of the reasons I haven’t recovered.
I’m chronically depressed. I’m still intermittently suicidal. I’m still addicted to self harm. But I’m trying to be positive and remain happy, I’ve not taken an overdose in months, I’m away from home so I don’t get the chance to drive, and I made the decision to leave the thing I used to self harm with at home when I moved out, so I’ve not had a relapse since January. Part of me still wants to die, and it’s awful, and I feel sad that none of the friends I’ve made since I moved out know about it, so I don’t talk about it. The few friends I have who do know always worry when I tell them about it, so I don’t want to worry them with my minor problems. I don’t even notice my triggers any more, really. The only thing that gets me is when I hear people talking about suicide and self harm, and this ridiculous rotating sign that my bus drives past that has “KEYS” on one side and “CUT” on the other, and every time I see the “CUT” side I think of it like a little voice in my head from the past that’s always going to be there.
I wish that suicidal thoughts and tendencies were acceptable to talk about. I wish I lived in a world where “Help me, I’m struggling” weren’t the four hardest words a person can say, but at the moment it’s just not like that. I wish I had a person to say this to rather than an anonymous blog. I wish that I wish I was mentally healthy, and didn’t like the scars on my forearm. I wish a lot of things. I once read that “a healthy person doesn’t want to be ill”, so I guess that’s how I know I’m a long way from where I need to be. As a kid I used to get upset that I didn’t have any illnesses, and went through a stage of thinking I had OCD, and Tourettes, and a couple of other conditions, and being happy about it because it made me ‘special’ in my mind. Does this mean I’ve always been ill?
I wanted to round off this post neatly, but my head’s a mess of scattered thoughts on mental illness and suicide and life, so it’s no wonder that’s reflected in the words I write here. I guess I just want it to be okay to not be okay, and for that to be true, and not just a Jessie J song lyric or cliché.
If you’re struggling, talk. If you’re suicidal, tell someone. I’m struggling alone because I think I’m going to be a burden on the people I know if I tell them, but it’s not true, and if you’re going through this you need to know that. Look after yourself first then everyone else can come after. You don’t deserve to want to die, you are special.
I’m sorry the world hurt you.