Still Here

Almost a year since twilight set in and settled round my shoulders, soon turning my world a shade of pitch black I couldn’t bare. Yet I am still here. Huzzah!

Not sure who to credit with is brilliant photo but I’m using it anyway because it is so fitting. If anyone knows the artist please let me know so I can give credit where it is due.

My Mom’s birthday is November 21st and last year my heavy depression coupled with an unbearable sense of grief drove me to near madness. I spiraled down deep into depths of hopelessness I never thought possible.

Those dark days led me to self harm, suicidal thoughts, and rock bottom levels of self loathing. I cried rivers and affected a zombie-like 1000 mile stare. I’ve never felt so lost.

Checking into the psychiatric ward was the best thing I could have done. I think it saved my life. I realized the therapy I was receiving as an out patient wasn’t enough and even though I didn’t think I deserved help I managed to force myself to seek it.

Staring down the barrel of the anniversary of my breakdown is confusing to say the least. On one hand I am feeling stronger and am proud of how far I’ve come, on the other I fear the triggers from last year will seep back in and rob me of the light once again.

The important thing is I’m still here. I’m still fighting. So bring it on fate! If I’m destined to keep slaying the dragons of mental illness I will with all the strength I can muster. And should I falter again sometime in the future, so be it, I will just keep getting up again and again until the last beast is slain.

K

Suicide Prevention Day

This post is going to be tough. I’m already sobbing and I’ve scarcely begun to write.

Have I ever felt suicidal? Yes. Oh my goodness yes.

Why am I still here? Many reasons, but the biggest reason is family. I couldn’t bare the thought of what my self-imposed early exit would leave behind in its wake.

Perhaps it helps that I have seen the heartbreak caused by suicide on more than one occasion. The wife of a family friend committed suicide a number of years ago and she left behind something for her husband I had never considered.

You see, not only did her poor Husband have to find her he also, as a matter of routine, had to be investigated by police. The thought of this additional insult to injury just never sat right. I could not bring myself to leave such a possibility for my own loved ones.

A coworker of mine committed suicide a few years back and I’ve never forgotten the broken look in his parents eyes at the memorial or how the tears at work didn’t cease for weeks. He was so loved and cherished by so many but in the end it came down to not enough love for himself.

My great Uncle also committed suicide after many failed previous attempts. I recall being so sad for my great Aunt who found him. Dead. Dead on the floor by the phone with a belly full of pills.

Ultimately, for me, I can’t see a way to commit suicide without leaving behind untold heartbreak and hurt. Simply the idea of what a mess I’d leave behind makes me want to hold my loved ones a little tighter, linger a little longer, and love myself a lot more.

Recognizing feelings of deep depression and suicidal thoughts has been key in keeping myself alive. No matter how difficult or uncomfortable, I’ve always dragged myself to my therapist to talk as soon as possible, called the Distress Center in Calgary http://www.distresscentre.com or 403-266-HELP, and/or gone to the hospital for help.

These services are there for everyone. Never think you are not worthy of seeking help. Dig deep to find even just a spark of self-love and save yourself with the help of others. There’s no shame in needing help and you are worth it.

K