My Suicidal Intervention

If you are feeling desperate, alone or helpless, or know someone who is, call 1-800-273-TALK (8255)to talk to a counselor at the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. For more information on where to get help, see the Band Back Together Suicide Resource Page.

I was scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed when I stumbled across this post from a long-time friend. Like back-from-Junior-High-type of long-time friend. The post started off with the simple line “Want to kill yourself?”

So of course I stopped and took the time to read the whole thing. Start to finish. It left a very sour taste in my mouth.

It was rather long, but it walked you through the act, then how the family reacts, how the friends and the school react. That your siblings end up drug addicts; the parents become workaholics and/or depressed, ultimately ending their marriage; the best friend tries to commit suicide; it goes on and on.

All because of what the one person did.

It might all be true. But if someone is contemplating suicide, it could be because they already think that all the sorrows of the world are their fault. They are already burdened with so much that they can’t bear it any longer. That their only escape is death. And now you’re going to pile this guilt on them, too? They already have too much to carry. That’s the problem.

This post bothered me because it made it seem like all you have to do is talk to someone and everything will be okay. And that’s not how it works. It isn’t just a switch that can be flipped, that you find someone trustworthy enough to spill everything to and then everything is right in the world. It just doesn’t happen that way.

And I would know. 

I was having thoughts of self-harm for months. I was planning it all out in my head, even going so far as to make sure it didn’t blow back on my family and make life harder on them. It was going to be a car accident. Lose control, hit a tree, flip over - don’t forget the high speed and the airbag I would have disengaged. I wasn’t even sure I could do that, but it was part of the plan and I knew I could research. And every night, on the way home from work, I got a little closer to going through with it. There was this one curve with a patch of trees… 

One night I came home to find my husband hadn’t done the dishes after dinner. That’s when I snapped. (That makes it sound like I went into a rage, but I didn’t.) I stood at the sink and started the dishes. Before I could really figure out what was going on, I was sitting on the floor dripping and crying and carrying on. My husband came and picked me up and took me over to the couch. He held me. Asked me what was wrong. And when I wouldn’t say anything, he flat told me he wasn’t letting go until I did. 

LONGEST. NIGHT. OF. MY. LIFE. 

But it’s the one that saved me. 

Please don’t think that it was all roses after that; if anything it got harder. I had to start owning up to everything I was thinking, going through and how it made me feel. Not everyone understood, because they couldn’t all know what was going on inside my head. But my husband, the amazing man that he is, held my hand and walked me through it every step of the way. He took me to the doctor and the three of us had a very long discussion. My medications were changed, I made adjustments at work, changed how I did things at home. It was a long road. A very long road. 

My point is that you can’t wait for someone who is depressed to come to you to spill it all. Sometimes, most of the time, you have to reach out to them. Show them you love them. Don’t just say the words. Don’t just tell them you’re there for them; that probably won’t be enough, because they’ll think that it’s too much to burden you with. So hug them, hold them tight, and make them realize that it isn’t. Make them talk to you. And if they won’t the first time, you try again. You know when there is something wrong with someone close to you. Don’t let them fool you into thinking everything is okay. 

Believe me, I gave off lots of warning signs. But I had people walk away from me, tell me it’s all in my head, that I was making it up, that I just needed to shake it off, move past it, get control, don’t let it get me down, to quit my bitching and get to work.

It was my husband that showed me he loved me. It was my husband that wouldn’t allow me to keep it in any longer, who gave me a safe time and place to unleash what I was feeling. To admit to what I was thinking, what was going through my head.

I’m still here because someone reached out to me, not because I reached out to someone else.