Mental Health Day gives us an opportunity to talk honestly and it’s one of the most important things we can do.
For years, I was so embarrassed to speak about the problems I was facing, the anxiety that held me back, the low mood that made me lose hope, and the suicidal ideation that made me think life wasn’t worth living.
Suffering from suicidal ideation is something I’ve always struggled with talking about. I don’t mind discussing my anxiety disorder publically, in fact, I’m proud to do it, but discussing something as serious and as personal as suicidal ideation is a step that takes a lot of strength and reflection. I never thought I’d be in a place where I felt like I was ready to discuss this, but it’s something that not enough people are talking about.
A couple of months ago I decided to come off my antidepressants. I was prescribed Sertraline for my anxiety disorder during the COVID-19 pandemic because I was struggling to keep my head above water. I knew my mental health would continue to deteriorate if I didn’t get help. I was scared of what could happen if I didn’t find a solution to the waves of anxiety and the dark thoughts I was dealing with on a daily basis. And the medication worked.
However, it wasn’t something I wanted to rely on forever, so earlier this year I decided to ease off my medication. I decided on a plan with my doctor and eventually stopped taking my meds just before the summer. I was nervous at first because the medication had turned me into a person I never thought existed. I was calm, I was happy, I was free from those overwhelmingly heavy thoughts that told me I didn’t belong. I barely recognised myself at some points because I forgot I could feel genuinely carefree.
“I struggled to understand how I could fall back into that place because I was better, right?”
I felt like I made so much progress, but anyone who suffers from mental health issues knows it isn’t a straightforward journey. It’s complicated, full of highs and lows, and extremely exhausting. I knew I wouldn’t feel ‘normal’ forever. I knew stopping my medication was a risk, but I felt strong enough to do it, and it’s a decision I’m still proud of to this very day. But I knew there were risks with stopping my medication, the main one being those heavy thoughts returning and weighing me down. And they did.
They seeped in when I was feeling tired or after a tough day that heightened my anxiety. They’d prop up when I struggled to fall asleep at night or when I was feeling self-conscious about something. And then they’d slowly build up in my mind. They’d attack my confidence, my self-worth, my strength, and everything in between. The suicidal thoughts made me feel weak, like a failure, like I had lost. I struggled to understand how I could fall back into that place because I was ‘better’, right? I worked hard to get better, but things started to dwindle.
There were days when those thoughts would pop up on my way to work and I’d just have to continue on as if my mind wasn’t telling me to end it all. I could be sitting in the pub with friends, walking around a bookshop, or visiting one of my oldest friends when my mind would fill with doubt.
“I knew under all those unbearable thoughts that I wanted to stay”
“Why are you even here?”
“Nobody needs you around.”
“You should’ve ended things years ago.”
“They’d be better off without you.”
I knew deep down that those thoughts were because of my anxiety disorder. I knew there was no truth behind them. I knew I wanted to stay. I knew I wanted to continue getting better, but ignoring them can feel impossible at times. A lot of suicidal ideation stems from underlying conditions like depression, generalised anxiety, and PTSD, or other factors like genetics, life stressors, and chronic pain. I knew my previous issues were to blame, but finding the strength to fight those thoughts wasn’t easy.
But I did. I recovered before and I knew I could do it again. I had professional and personal support, but I also knew, under all those unbearable thoughts, that I wanted to stay. My mind may have been thinking one thing, but as my therapist has told me time and time again, those thoughts aren’t facts. A handful of friends knew about what was going on, but for the most part, I continued on as normal as possible. From the outside looking in, everything looked normal. My life looked pretty lovely and carefree, but on the inside, I was exhausted from my mind filling with suicidal thoughts on a daily basis. I didn’t think I was strong enough to do it. There was one day in particular when I was just so tired. I kept thinking about how if this happened once, it could happen again, but then little glimmers would pop up. Slowly, but surely, I’d find myself looking forward to things again, thinking about the future, and allowing myself to feel hopeful.
It is so hard to imagine feeling better when you’re so mentally ill that all you can think about is ending things. I remember reaching out to a suicide helpline during the summer because I just didn’t have the energy to keep fighting. It was a particularly bad night and everything just felt like it was tumbling down on me. The volunteers, who have supported me numerous times, helped me see that there would be happier days, but they also reminded me that the bad ones don’t mean you’re a failure. They give you perspective, they give you strength, and they make you realise why you fought in the first place. They make you appreciate those happier moments so much more, moments you almost didn’t get to experience, moments you never thought you’d be here for.
There are so many memories I never would’ve made if it wasn’t for the professional and personal support I sought. I keep catching myself reveling in little moments lately because they’re the reason I stayed. They’re the reason I’m still here.
You can contact Samaritans on 116 123 or text the crisis helpline on 50808 for mental health support.
