Once in my life I have had thoughts of suicide. Luckily I never got to the point that I would have seriously considered it. Unfortunately too many people do reach this point. A point where they think they can’t go on and that the world would be better off without them and it’s utterly heartbreaking.
I have seen a lot of discourse about suicide on social media recently and there seems to be two camps. Those who empathise because they have either been through, or have somewhat of an understanding of mental illness and some who think it’s selfish and cowardly. I can see both sides of this and I won’t condemn those who don’t think the same way as me. However I do believe that we should never cast aspersions until we walk a day in the shoes of someone with depression.
I don’t often speak of this because it’s a time of my life I would much rather forget. But I went through a stage of depression, albeit briefly, in my late twenties. Somehow talking about anxiety is much easier. I’m not sure why. Maybe because it’s perceived as more common or has less of a stigma attached. Maybe because as bad as my anxiety has ever been, it doesn’t even begin to compare to the living hell that is depression. To this day, I have no idea what brought it on, it was just a gradual process. My anxiety was pretty bad, which is a known precursor to depression but I started to feel everything so deeply, I took every negative comment made to me or around me, every bad news story I saw on TV, every sad song, every tiny thing I couldn’t achieve (even something so small as changing a lightbulb or overcooking the dinner), as a personal failure and everyone else’s pain became my pain. Until one day I didn’t feel anything at all. Nothing. This to me was worse than anything else. I would take pain, heartbreak, sadness ANYTHING over feeling nothing at all. It’s like the very thing that makes you human has been taken from you and you’re just a walking zombie. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want to do anything and when I did I got zero enjoyment out of it. All these things that used to make me me were gone. And I had no idea how to get them back. I knew that my friends and family could tell there was something wrong and I even talked about it to some people but not much as I was ashamed and embarrassed. I was a happy and bubbly person, with a great life and people who loved me, how could I possibly admit to having depression? How ungrateful must I be to not appreciate everything I had in life? There were no clear answers and I just started to feel like an immense burden to everyone around me. Like no one wants to be around someone who is this miserable and constantly be having to prop them up. I started to think that the people I loved would be better off without me. This I guess, is the point I want to get across the most. While people may think it’s selfish and cowardly, in that moment, it can feel like the most selfless thing to do. So please do not be so quick to judge. Anger is a natural emotion to feel towards someone who is in that state of mind, however for me, anger would have just further solidified my belief that I was a burden and intensified my sense of worthlessness.
Luckily for me I came out of the fog. I don’t even really know how, just one day I was spending time with a friend (someone who I wasn’t even particularly close to) and I laughed again. A real laugh. And then I slowly started to feel again. I am not a religious person but I thank God that I have never gone through that again since. The thought of it happening again still terrifies me sometimes but living life in fear is not living so I choose not to dwell on it.
I realise this is a fairly contentious subject and I really don’t want to ruffle any feathers or upset anyone. Nor do I claim to be an expert in this field by any stretch of the imagination. I simply wanted to tell my story and get the point across that it can happen to anyone and that a small act of kindness, friendship or support can sometimes go a long way to starting the process of recovery for someone suffering from mental illness.
– Nic