My suicide story is not something I share very often. Not because I’m ashamed but because it’s often irrelevant as I go through my day. However, I do openly speak about it when I’m prompted. Suicide is real. Thoughts of suicide are real. The way the mind gets twisted is overwhelming. I want to bring awareness and hope to those who are silently suffering and let them know they’re not alone.
I didn’t get to the point of action but the suicidal ideations were making more and more sense. I was convinced my family would be better off without me. I didn’t want attention or give anyone an opportunity to talk me out of it.
Go. Get. Help.
I was so terrified to tell anyone because in my mind I was going to lose my daughter and never see my husband again. Interesting, right? I wanted to kill myself, which would result in losing my husband and daughter but I did NOT want to go to a psychiatric unit. The whole point of committing suicide was so I would not have to suffer anymore and my family could move on. Being in a psych unit would cause me to suffer more and my family to worry about me. These are the stories that played in my head.
I pictured padded walls and crazy people trying to kill me, straight jackets, doctor’s shooting me up with narcotics, and being on lock down.
Heck, maybe all of this would have happened, but the main reason I didn’t tell anyone is because I was living every day scared, full of fear with no hope. Psychiatric hospitals scared me. I didn’t want to be scared anymore.
I wanted to share this in case anyone is considering suicide and is too scared to get help. I was terrified years ago but I see the truth about mental health now that I work in behavioral health. It’s not scary and it’s not uncommon for people to have a list of mental health disorders and get help for them.
Working in behavioral health we deal with psychiatric hospitals all. the. time. It’s a normal part of the work we do in substance abuse treatment.
Drug abuse and mental health go hand in hand. I call it the ‘underbelly’ of the world. It’s the place where all the shitty stuff happens that no one wants to talk about. Where dad’s rape their daughters (and this is common, I’ll have you know), where church leaders molest the youth (common as well), where people sell their body for drugs, where mom’s are numb and say, “this is no longer my child. He stopped being my son years ago. I’m simply calling for a stranger – in hopes that you may help save his life.”,
The underbelly – where grown men lie in the street so oncoming traffic can run them over. Where people drive under the influence, wreck, and wake up to the fact that they killed their best friend who was also in the car.
People who are filled with trauma and pain. They don’t know how to properly process pain, guilt, shame, anger … so they turn to chemical substance. And it helps. It works for them. Until it wears off. So they use again. The thing that is killing them is the thing that keeps them alive.
It’s such a vicious cycle.
So, all that to say … mental health disorders and psychiatric units don’t scare me anymore. Working on the inside, I can see that these places are here to help and it’s actually common for people to go there for help – just no one talks about it.
No one talked about it in my circle. The church absolutely has no idea what to do with it. Your options are to pray more, read the Bible more, and confess your sin/repent more.
I’m here to tell you – GO. GET. HELP.
Pray, read your Bible, confess sin and repent, fast, get oil poured on you, ultimately this is what saved my life. Jesus did save me. He did pull me out but I suffered far too long, to the point of suicide and I didn’t have to. So … do the things listed above but freakin’ go get professional, clinical help!
Your life is valuable. You are valuable. I’ve never regretted staying alive.
Your mind is lying to you.