*This post is in support of those who have survived, and in honor of those we've lost.
I have a secret. Other than a select few, there's something you don't know, for better or worse. Despite my openness with most areas of my life, the dark and terrifying as well as the bright and sunny, this one little secret is something that I generally don't divulge. With most everything else, I don't care what people think of me and my various disorders. I know I've survived and been through more before I even turned 20 than most will throughout their entire lives and I've definitely come out stronger for it. However, when trained medical and psychological professionals give you looks of shock, disgust, and anger after they find out your secret, it sort of deters you from wanting to share with anyone. At all. Ever. So I just don't.
Until now.
So what's the secret? Well, it's no secret that I've battled depression for years along with various forms of eating disorders and obsessive compulsive disorders. But the fact that I tried to kill myself twice when I was 19 years old, that's more of a secret.
Yup...I tried to commit suicide - twice - in the spring of 2006.
It's not something I've ever really tried to hide, but that doesn't mean it's something I'm going to offer up willingly. I've written about the dark times of my life a lot, especially as writing has been a giant part of my therapy and healing, so I won't go into all the details of my history again. But in honor of National Suicide Prevention Week, I'm coming completely clean. Finally.
You're not going to get all the gory details out of me. Clearly I'm not good at that whole suicide thing because I failed twice. (By the way, you're allowed to laugh. That was a funny. I'm allowed to joke about my past if it helps me move forward.) I will tell you that I've had my stomach pumped. I will also tell you that to this day I still have faded scars on my arms/wrists. I will also tell you that the internal scars run far deeper than probably even I know. I will tell you that trying to come back from that is emotionally and physically some of the worst fucking pain I've felt in my entire life. But I'm still here.
I've watched friends suffer through depression, compulsions, and addictions. I've watched and have been sucked into their downward spiral. I've also watched people I know and love spiral out of control until it's too late, despite everything I could possibly do to try to help. And I know I've put many people through hell throughout the years while I struggled through my own whirlwind of depression.
Suicidal thoughts and actions are no joke. Please do not fuck around with them. Again, and I can't ever stress this enough, if I didn't have those people in my life who love me enough to step in and help me, I can tell you right now I sure as hell wouldn't be here writing this. It's hard as shit to sit back and watch someone destroy themself, but as much as you might want to "fix" that person, you can't. They're not a damn car. They need to want it. They need to fight for it themselves. Can you be there and support them and love them unconditionally? Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes. And as much as you might want to just have that person "get better," it's a process, and many times a much longer one than you want.
I am forever grateful for the people who stepped in and helped to save me from myself. They won't take credit for it, and most of them don't think they did a damn thing, but I'm only here because I had their love and support. "Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible," says the Dalai Lama. Be kind, because you never know when your kindness could save a life.
No comments:
Post a Comment