When people tell me that suicide is selfish, I cringe. My skin crawls even as I write this.But Kate Spade had everything. Anthony Bourdain left behind a teenage daughter; how can they do that to them? Again, my skin crawls. This blog post is something that has been festering for quite some time. Festering, I know. *interesting word choice*
I remember having my mental health be in such a low place that it was like breathing daggers with every breath. Every inhale was a like when you’ve been tipped out of your canoe, fully clothed in jeans, and have to somehow swim back. The weight on every part of your being is immense. You would give ANYTHING to have some relieve from the constant heaviness that is both pressing and imminent. It is there before you open your eyes in the morning, and if you are able to sleep, it is the last thing on your mind. I know, because 5 years ago, I had a mental health break down. It’s hard to type or say out loud. God forbid, others read my blog and know my deepest darkest secret.
I thought my babies would be better off without me. I thought I was a burden to my family. I was forever the girl who couldn’t get her shit together. I believed my friends and family would be happier. I believed my babies didn’t need me because they had my ex-husband and a slim new girlfriend with perfect weaves and perky tits. I remember like it was yesterday- walking towards the bridge. I made a list of those who were important to me. I can hear the crunching of the gravel as I walked even now. I started from the bottom of least important to the top to say goodbye and thank them for what they had done in my life. I didn’t even make it half way up the list when the cops came took to the hospital.. I suppose someone (thank GOD) got an idea that something wasn’t right and called assistance.
What LIES we tell ourselves when we are at our lowest!!! I have pondered sharing my story but did not want to for fear of stigma, isolation and, you know, those epic death stares. I had been going back and forth about posting about suicide, especially because it hits close so close to home. I finger painted this piece the day I came home from the hospital.
It was a loooooooooooong road to recovery. I had to fight like HELL for what I wanted. But life is a marathon, not a sprint. It was like a Phoenix rising out of the ashes. It was many small steps. BABY STEPS COUNT Y’ALL! Some days, I celebrated that I made it to the bathroom and back.
Other days, I made it to the bottom of the stairs before I went back to my bed. Next, I changed from dirty pajamas into clean pajamas. It was this overarching feeling of hope and a persistent, relentless determination towards thriving and having to believe even when I couldn’t feel it that life wouldn’t always be like this.
I have lost friends to suicide and a few people close to me. I couldn’t write anything for the past week or so because of the gravity of this topic and how the splashes the triviality of lives lost and whatnot . I was going to gloss over it and hope no one noticed, when a beautiful woman, entrepreneur and mama on one of my socials posted about her being in the hospital after cutting her wrists.
I’m not going to pretend I have all the answers, because I definitely don’t. But I DO know that by me being brave, I can hopefully empower and embolden others to do the same. Here are my 3 thoughts on suicide:
- Not too many people actually want to die. Most (from the copious amounts of suicide and crisis prevention training I have undergone) want their physical, psychological, mental pain to stop.
- You cannot give someone the idea of wanting to die by suicide. All the literature and smart people who wear glasses say so.
- There is nothing you can do or not do to stop someone if they want to complete their suicide. HOWEVER, you can be a support. You can send out a text or DM and let them know they are not alone. This world can be a lonely place. Think right now about someone you haven’t reached out to in a while that might need a message. You never know- it could be what they need to keep going.
For those who are thinking that the pain is unbearable; you are not alone my friend. check out this phenomenal resource at project semicolon. In their words, “A semicolon represents a sentence the author could’ve ended, but chose not to. The author is you and the sentence is your life.”
When you feel like you can’t keep going. You can. Just hold on for a little bit longer. Even if it’s minute by minute, second by second, breath by breath. You matter. You will get through this- regardless of what you think, feel, have been through or are currently going through. Today is a brand new day.