CW: mental health and suicide.
Many of you have most probably read my past posts and understand that I have been battling severe depression and anxiety for some time and that it comes and goes. In the last post, I kind of promised that I would not do anything bad, but unfortunately I did try to commit suicide. Even though my beautiful cat saved my life, and even though it has been 7 months, I am at the stage of now feeling shocked that I attempted to die.
Immediately after, I cried and cried like I had never cried before and it was mainly because I hadn't succeeded. And I regret to a point of making people there for me at my lowest point feel blamed. Most of the time, we're carrying so much within us that unbeknownst to others, what ever they say or do can just be the last straw. And unfortunately what that friend had said was the last straw that broke me.
Thinking back on that day, the reasons behind it, I felt so overwhelmed. I had been holding onto the date of my first counselling session but as I waited for over a month, I tried to hold on as much as I could, but in the end it burst like an atomic bomb. Crying and drunk, I felt like a failure afraid of losing a friend who had broken the last straw and in relation, I had bitten back.
Weeks leading up to the 'event'. I had been coping. I hadn't isolated myself from friends, in fact things were going really well. I was working in a job I loved, and I was doing something for others. It was all very positive. Until, of course, I was admitted to hospital twice in a space of 5 weeks for major issues that I hadn't experienced before. I got a warning, even told to resign as the job wasn't for me despite doing well at my probation targets. The manager also told me it was my fault for getting Pneumonia and being ill.
So the pressure of being told it was my fault and being told to leave crushed me quite heavily. On top of that, I was diagnosed with allergic asthma and all sorts of other things. I couldn't stop thinking of why I was alive, and why this was happening to me. I thought I had struggled enough. And I saw the world as unfair. It all drowned me. The fact that I now could no longer breathe properly and would have to use steroids made me feel very low. Instead of 3 tablets, I was having to take 8 daily.
I thought I had ripped away my old identity where I had back pain for years and was limited in most ways. But now, so soon after I was a kind of an invalid once again. I also thought that the path, I had thus far, carved for myself was deeply flawed.
It was also difficult to differentiate between my own thoughts and the thoughts the depression created for me. My depression hurt me with dark thoughts, and slowly swallowed me whole. It consumed me so much so that I had to defer from my modules at university, and in the end, I had to take a sabbatical. So once more my identity was no longer the one I valued. The only thing I now had left was the job (which I left on my own terms later).
How I feel now is I have to seperate the past from the future. I am beginning to look to the future instead of always thinking of the past, especially the traumas. I don't think time necessary heals scars. I think it's exploring those experiences and fitting them in a constructive way that really gives us peace. For me, now my journey forward in life is to accomplish peace. It helps that I am doing a degree in Peace and Conflict which I will go back to next year.
The counseling helped, and so do the anti-depressents. And as my physical health once again has dropped quite a bit, I no longer think of death, but the opportunities the future will offer. I just wish my friends who knew had been more supportive or even just contacted me. There was only one of them that did.
This is my first time publicly speaking about it. And though I realise we all have different experiences that lead us to make this tragic decision. I hope that in writing about this, you find some hope, or see that you are not alone.