How I Saved Myself From Suicide
I hope it can help you.
KieferPix / Shutterstock For years, the idea of killing myself had niggled at the back of my mind.
It started as a simple thought — just being aware that people do that, but I never thought I would seriously consider something so extreme.
But as I got older, was more irregular with my antidepressants, and impending adulthood reared its ugly head, it became an actual desire.
So here's what I did that saved my life:
In a moment of clarity, I sought out therapy.
I finally took action, as soon as my mind was clear enough to do so. And thank goodness for that.
I bawled my eyes out to a therapist.
It all just came spilling out. I didn’t expect or mean for it to, but it just happened.
After I opened up about one thing, it all just came pouring out.
Like word vomit. Pretty sure that the therapist was pretty taken aback by how much and how quickly I cried, but she accepted it.
If you can't find a therapist, call the Suicide Prevention Hotline. Seriously. Call: 1-800-273-8255
I told someone.
I needed someone to hold me accountable. This was a huge part of what got me through.
Somehow just admitting that this had become not only a thought but a desire was a relief.
I wasn’t alone. I didn’t have to hide it anymore. I could breathe.
I took a day off.
It was the first “mental day” I had ever taken. And it was needed.
I drove to the beach early in the morning and just sat and watched the waves for a long time.
It was nice to go there when it was nearly empty. I treated myself to some well-made fancy healthy food, window shopped (and shopped), and pretty much did whatever I felt like for the day.
And it was amazing.
I took my antidepressants (again).
Not gonna lie, pretty sure that at least part of the reason I was having such huge problems with this round of depression was because of how inconsistent I had been with them.
I think every person that needs antidepressants knows the cycle. In depression: I’m horrible, nothing will ever be good again.
With antidepressants: Oh, I feel fine! I’m totally fine! So fine there’s no way I don’t need antidepressants anymore!
And so the cycle goes.
I found a place I could calm down.
I realized I needed to find a place where I could be alone, undisturbed, and calm.
I didn’t have one of those places, and when I talked to my therapist about wanting to find a place like this, she mentioned the Self Realization Fellowship. I went there and fell in love.
I meditated. Almost religiously.
I treated the fellowship almost like a church. I drove there every Sunday morning, found my special spot, and meditated in silence until I was satisfied.
I had a profound realization.
The meditation was just peaceful at first, and at some point, my mind really started working, and it seemed to be epiphany after epiphany.
I felt so enlightened on the deepest of levels, and I got my hope back.
I started to tell myself the same things I would tell my friends in this situation.
I have a couple of friends who suffer from depression, and I’ve talked them through some hard times. It’s a hard thing to witness.
But I realized: Why is it that I talk to the people I love one way and myself another? Why don’t I start loving MYSELF?
I took it one day at a time.
We all have our good days, our bad days, our awesome days, and our worse-than-shit days. The difference was that now, finally, I could separate those days out.
One shit day didn’t have to stretch out to a month of days feeling like shit. I could let myself be upset and then continue forward like a normal human being.
It wasn’t instant gratification, but I got through it even though for the longest time I thought I wouldn’t.
In some ways, happiness is a choice, but in others, it’s a fight.
So for anyone reading this that is trying to choose to be happy, but losing the battle: take it one day at a time. Tomorrow can change everything.
D'Vaughn McCrae is a writer and multimedia journalist. Check out her website for more.