The first thoughts I had of suicide began in the summer of 2013. It was really scary. Since I had left my spa job at the Delta and moved to a small town called Canmore, I had decided I was ready to more “open” with guys after such a long break from dating.
I was mistaken. I wasn’t ready emotionally for all the challenges that brings…
A failed friendship/ romantic relationship with who at first seemed to be a very bright, happy German traveler turned into a very awkward, alienating situation. We worked together and lived in the same staff accommodation building – all of our coworkers knew him the longest, so the fact that I couldn’t deal with what happened just pushed them away from me.
It was on the floor of the bathroom I was cleaning. I had collapsed in tears – and I felt like hurting myself. More than I had before. I didn’t want to die – I came to Alberta for fear of dying in London – but something in my brain had been triggered and my self-harming had turned into wanting to kill myself in one desperate moment. I finally stood up and shook myself out of it, went for a walk, and I felt a little bit better. There was extra stress that I might be pregnant, so the guy kept harassing to take a test even though I told him that it was too early to do so. It was hell – in the middle of a lovely, mountain-surrounded summer. I coped by trying to do things I enjoyed and by making new friends. It helped.
In fact, that generally seems to be the trigger for all of my suicidal thoughts: Failed or difficult social situations – be they romantic or platonic.
The height of my suicidal desires was in November 2013. Another friend I had made and was able to talk to until late at night turned his back on me. He became terribly sarcastic and malicious. On his last night in our staff accommodation, he began being relatively nice to me and then he finally lashed out when I had warmed up to him. I came home upset and felt like talking with my room mates, but two of them left to go do other things… and I took it personally. I stormed down the hallway, crying about how my old friend didn’t care about me, and that he would be glad if he heard that I was dead in a ditch tomorrow morning. The room mate who stayed behind tried to calm me down – and I went for the knife drawer, bent of slicing the shit out of my arms – and maybe even my throat. I was so frantic. Thankfully, she put me to bed and told me that he did care about me, but he was just being an asshole. I am really glad she was there…
That was probably one of the strongest urges I had just to end things. Looking back on it, I am scared how close I was to ending my life over someone so transient, so selfish. But when you’re depressed for so long, and you cope with feeling hopeless for so many months, it just builds up and when something bad happens, you see it as trauma and wonder if you’ll be able to fight anymore. It was terrible, and my heart goes out to anyone who has hurt themselves or who has suicidal thoughts.
Fast forward to a month later. Another friendship turned complicated with one of my room mates – I felt like it was the last straw when I developed feelings for him after becoming physically involved… I wanted to die for real that time. It wasn’t a heat of the moment thought, it was an all-surrounding feeling of loss and hurt. My writing hadn’t progressed much, so I didn’t even have that. I’ve always said its’ my writing and my sister/parents that keep me from doing anything, and one of the two big things keeping me alive wasn’t really there at the time. I had to talk myself out of going to the knife drawer on many evenings, and I imagined how I would arrange my bed, what I would wear, how I would do my makeup, for when I did finally do it. In the meantime, I physically hurt myself.
It was actually only a week ago that I told him about this, and he was really upset. He looked at me and said, “Don’t.” It was a simple word, but the worry in his voice was strong. I’m obviously grateful now that I didn’t go through with it.
No person is worth hurting or killing yourself over. You are worthy of living just like everyone else. Life is so precious – and it’s short enough as it is. And I really do want to do so much for the world, and I’m disappointed in myself for letting go of that and for allowing sadness grasp on to me so much that I entertain such dangerous thoughts.
He’s been one of the few people here that checks in on me, and he knows how serious my depression is. While he used to be the cause of my suicidal musings, he’s become someone who wants to help me in any way he can. But he’s leaving in a few days. That will feel strange, but I wonder if it might be better. Maybe I can heal faster with him gone. As much as he makes me laugh, and as much as his genuine heart warms me, there’s a lot of hurt I still feel from him… and there’s a wall between us that likely would never go away because of our awkward past. It’s life. If I were in a better place mentally, I’d be able to move on from this easier, but when you’re already depressed, your body produces more cortisol (Stress hormone) than the happy hormones. Your thinking becomes predominantly negative, and drains you of energy and health.
In my next post, I want to talk about my experience with going to the hospital, about my medication, and about my therapy sessions which have helped save my life. I hope it will also help you to read about how I’m dealing with this. Depression is something that can be overcome. You just have to be very careful not to allow your thoughts to become carried away, and to think of all of the things to be grateful for – even when you’re hurting the most.
Take the time today to be good to yourself. Go for a walk, watch a sunset, take a hot shower, watch a funny movie. Do what you need to do to feel better, and do not take to hear what other people think about you. Only the ones who want to help you and make you happy matter. Most importantly, you matter.
If you are feeling depressed or suicidal, there is hope for healing.
I promise. ❤