Today is World Suicide Prevention Day.
I
am a survivor.
It
was on my twelfth birthday, that is a year younger than my youngest child is
now, that I first found myself assaulted by suicidal thoughts. Though they were
in my head, I’d say they came from ‘outside of’ me...
The
second time came when I was seventeen, and that time, it was more of an
internal wrestle. As with many, maybe all, survivors, I did not want to die, I
just wanted the pain I felt, after years of depression, to end.
The
first time, I felt all alone in the world. I think there must have been angels
fighting for me. The second time, I was surrounded by some good friends, who I
could talk to. They got me home, got me talking to my parents, my GP, a child
psychiatrist. I was able to access support, of various kinds, and so began a
two-year journey towards life.
At
university, I discovered there were plenty of other people going through
something very similar, and that I was able to listen, to be a friend to them
in their need, as others had been a friend to me. I discovered, as again so
many survivors do, a sense of life-purpose through my experience of pain.
When
I was going through the selection process to be a vicar, I was sent to the Priory, and they gave me a clean bill of health. I’ve known low mood since, but
I’m not in that place. I wouldn’t wish my past on anyone, but I don’t resent
it. It has more-than been redeemed.
If
you are struggling, reach out. If you are concerned about a friend, reach out.
Night is long and cold and dark, but the dawn comes. We can watch the sunrise,
together.
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