So,
I began writing this post and things became a little familiar, so I went back
through recent posts and lo behold there was one on suicide from less than two
months ago! I debated doing another but decided that since the previous one was so popular and that I’ll be writing
this one with different/new content and in a different format, maybe I can get
away with it…?!
After
having consulted on Richmond Fellowship’s Social Media Guidelines, I was
recently asked to look at the Suicide Prevention Policy to provide comments on
the different aspects of it. In completing the feedback form, I realized that
it must be difficult for organizations to devise such policies when the chances
are that the majority of staff
developing these actually don’t have any experience in what they’re trying to
prevent. And I guess that’s why Richmond Fellowship consult with Service
Users – they recognize that we can provide an insight into such a difficult topic
that could better their care of others. Thinking up signs that a person is
feeling suicidal, has the potential to save the life of someone exhibiting
those signs who staff might have previously ‘overlooked.’ And sometimes there
are signs that only someone who has experienced feelings of suicide can point
out.
In
fairness, I think that people are a lot more tuned-in to these kinds of things
these days because there’s so much press around mental health and suicide in
particular that there’s a greater awareness and knowledge of the signs to look
out for but no one can know how it feels. So, I’m going to have a go at telling
you all – and I recognize that everyone
experiences suicidal ideation differently so I’ll only talk about my own
experiences in the hope that it will encourage people with different versions
to speak up too.
The
first thing I noticed when I was suicidal was tiredness. Not just a ‘can’t-be-bothered-to-get-out-of-bed’
type tiredness but a ‘too-tired-to-breathe’
tiredness. It wasn’t just fogging up my brain and leaving me in bed; it was
wrapped around my very core. I couldn’t say ‘well if I have some caffeine, I might
get some energy’ or ‘if I have another hour’s sleep maybe I’ll be ok.’ It goes
beyond that. There’re no options on how to improve it. There’s no chance that
it will go away. No chance that you can get energy from somewhere else. There’s
no escape.
The
lack of an escape route goes on to when I’m experiencing the hallucinations. This
is where I need to be a bit clearer… because a lot of people might assume, when
they hear that someone has overdosed, that it was a suicide attempt. In fact,
for me, overdosing became a form of self-harm too. To put things into
perspective, my records show that I’d taken over 60 overdoses and I could count
on one hand how many were actual suicide attempts. I was sat here, and I
thought ‘which instances were suicide attempts?’ And I decided that if the
instance didn’t come straight into my mind as a suicide attempt then it can’t
have been one. How can I justify it if I’ve had to try and think of it? So, as
a result, I’m going to say that I have made three attempts on my life. I think there was many times when I thought I
wanted to die but do you know how I know they weren’t suicide attempts? I
didn’t end up in Intensive Care and on life support. Almost all of my overdoses
stemmed from the hallucinations in some way or another. The actual suicide
attempts, though, happened because I felt there was no escape from the auditory
and visual hallucinations. It felt as
though they would be with me for the rest of my life; like I would never see a
day without them. And I couldn’t bare the thought of that. I couldn’t imagine
how I’d ever get on with my life.
The
final unavoidable thing in my life was the memories of the abuse. People talk
all the time about how you can move on from something, but you can never get
rid of the memories; and it’s so true! I
could never forget what he did to me. That feeling of hopelessness, that
something so negative has the potential to continue for the rest of your life…
well, of course I wanted to escape that. At one point, it felt like there were
triggers of the memories and flashbacks everywhere; as though people were constantly
talking about the things that reminded me of what’d happened. Hearing the words
‘abuse’ or ‘rape’ were huge triggers for me and when the memories became overwhelming,
I became suicidal. I couldn’t bear the thought that every day had the potential
to remind me of the worst six months of my life.
I was talking with the Richmond Fellowship Tyneside Team Leader recently and told her that whilst it's helpful to be reminded of your accomplishments and protective factors when you're feeling suicidal, it's equally important to feel validated. It's important that the person you ask for help from acknowledges why you'd be feeling the way you are and doesn't detract attention from that by purely focusing on the fact you blog almost has half a million readers (for example!).
I
think that I overcame my suicidal feelings for many of reasons but the key one
was that it felt natural to want to do
everything I could to stop myself from feeling like that. So, when I first
learnt the Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT) skill; Mindfulness, I believed
that if I allowed myself to ‘be in the moment’ then I’d be dead. If I felt all the
feelings that were deep inside of me then I wouldn’t want to be here anymore.
Now, though, I love being in the moment because it allows me the chance to have
all my achievements sink in. Learning new coping skills like Mindfulness, and
distraction and self-soothe helped me to see that actually, there’s other ways
to deal with the hallucinations and the memories. Ways that don’t include
losing my life.
I’ve
been incredibly fortunate in getting the right help for my suicidal ideation before
I succeeded.
If you or someone you know is feeling suicidal you can call your
local Crisis Team, the NHS out-of-hours service 111, or in case of an emergency,
attend your local A&E or dial 999