My Suicide Story

TRIGGER WARNING

I am sharing this story today in honor of a girl I love very much. She has had a particularly rough patch the past couple years and confided in me a few months ago that today was her planned suicide date. I am telling my story for her and all the other people who are going through this same journey, because I do believe there is hope.

I have lived with chronic depression since I was 11 years old. When I was young I would spend hours fantasizing about killing myself, thinking of all the ways I could finish this life. I held all of this in myself, afraid to let anyone know. My family was going through a turbulent time as it was, and I didn't want to add to their stress. On a nearly weekly basis I would plan an attempt, but would always give up at the point of writing out the suicide note. There were more close calls than I can even count.

This brought me into a downward spiral; I hated myself for wanting to die, I wanted to die because I hated myself. Slowly the people closest to me began to see what I desperately wanted to hide. I wouldn't sleep for days at a time, then would go comatose and sleep for ages. It was hell in the truest sense of the word.

The crazy part in all this is that most people I knew had absolutely no idea what was happening. On the outside, I was a bubbly, smart girl. I got straight As in school, was in multiple clubs, and had lots of friends. One of my best friends actually realized that the more bubbly and happy I seemed, the worse I was doing internally. She realized this before even I did, she kept me sane.

This continued for years, sometimes better and sometimes worse. Until one day when I was about 17 one of my close friends found me nearly unconscious on the floor of my shower. I had lost so much blood that I kept falling between asleep and awake. She patched me up and told both my father and her parents... then came the intervention.

I was forced to go to recovery groups (similar to Alcoholics Anonymous, but for all addictions, not just Alcoholism). It was here that I realized being depressed or masochistic didn't make me a bad person. Some of the people in this group were wonderful people, they had dreams and hopes and people they loved. If I didn't hate them for their struggles, how could I hate myself for my own? This is when the journey of understanding my illness truly began.

I have learned a lot about myself since then. I realize now that my depression is more about the chemical balances in my body than anything else. If I sleep at decent hours, eat well, exercise and meditate, then I will remain stable. If I don't get good sleep for 2 nights, or if I don't exercise for more than 3 days, I will almost immediately get suicidal thoughts again. It is a constant effort to check in with myself to make sure I am still stable, so that the suicidal tendencies don't catch me off guard. At the end of a perfect day a voice will always come up telling me to end it all, telling me it can't get better than this. But now I realize that voice is not my own, so instead of being angry I can find an outlet to release the pressure before it builds.

Now, why am I telling you all of this? Why would I share such a deeply personal journey on the internet? For two reasons:

1. I want to change how people see depression. Too often we hear "depression" and think of a teenager wearing all black and running around crying. The reality is that depression is a part of life for people from all walks of life and all ages. Someone can have a fulfilling, beautiful life and still have depression. Like rheumatoid arthritis or chronic back pain, it is a difficult struggle, but it does not mean someone cannot achieve their dreams and lead a wonderful life. I am living the life of my dreams and loving it, I will not give my depression the power to hold me back.

We need to open the dialogue about this illness to realize that depressed people aren't broken people, they are just people. If the stigma of depression could be removed, maybe more of us would be open to getting help. If someone would have told me as a young girl that being depressed was okay and didn't make me evil, maybe I would have spent less time with a knife in my shaking hands.

2. I want to speak out to the girl I spoke of earlier, and all the others like her-
You are not broken. You are not defective. Your pain matters. You can fight this, you can grow old and fall in love and have a family. You deserve to live a full life, and you hold the power to find that life inside of yourself. Don't let this illness win, fight back. I promise you that if you choose to carry on, you will find happiness again. I love you.

*NOTE: I do want to make a note that not all depression is chronic like mine. There are many people that experience temporary depression due to a certain circumstance, like death in the family of a difficult season of life. One type of depression is not better or worse than another, and any type of depression can be helped by living with intention and finding help. If you are dealing with depression of any type, please get help. You are worth it. 

Different words for the same thing.

I recently went out with some good friends and some new friends to drink and chat. Two of those people were fellows who have very extreme political and economical ideas, they are hardcore Libertarians and highly invested in cyrptocurrency (such as Bitcoin). The other friend was a great leader in a Christian Evangelical organization here. Then there was me. We had wonderful conversation, discussing the root of morality and government and the purpose of social structures and religion.

When religion came up, one fellow brought up how he was a staunch atheist. He believes it is ridiculous to assume there are supernatural forces in the world, as nature is all we have and can test. Whereas my Christian friend, she spoke of her belief in another world surrounding us that is all spiritual and we can only catch the smallest glimpses of if we choose to. Later Mr. Atheist was speaking about how humans have a special value because we are the only creatures who have a conscience and a higher-thinking mind. We have something in us that allows us to wonder about the spiritual and to make decisions and see a better future in which we live at peace with one another.

As our conversation continued with more drinks and fun, I realized we are all talking about the same thing. Whether you call it God, logic, or karma- there is something within us as humans that ties us all together. It is a force that allows us to see ourselves within others, to see potential for connections and hope. Some would say it is God within each and every one of us, our humanity and the Spirit that connects us all.

There's a joke my dad loves to tell:

Child: Mother, who made me? 

Mother: God made you.

Child: Who made the animals and plants? 

Mother: God made the animals and plants. 

Child: Who made the earth, sun, and moon? 

Mother: God made the earth, sun, and moon.  

Child: If God made all of these things, then who made God? 

Mother: We did. 

If God made us in their own image, then we also make God in our image. For some of us, God is nature and all that is around us, for others God is science, for others still God is a spiritual warrior fighting dark unseen forces.  When we say "God" we all speak of different things, but what if we really are all speaking about the same Force, the same Reality?

Say there is a great, fantastic machine in front of us. My brother Matthew will say, "What can I do with it to make my life better?", my sister Marissa will say, "Look how exciting this is! I shall tell the whole world of how wonderful it is!", my brother Marcos will say, "How do I take it apart and how does it work?". For some the machine will be useful, for some it will be a way to connect to others, and for some it will be a thing to take apart and learn from. But it is only the one machine.

I guess what I'm saying is, I think we are all looking at the same Ultimate Reality. We may have different names for it or different ways of connecting to it or finding it in our lives. But I truly do believe it is all One, we are all one humanity. It is for this reason we love, it is in this that we live and move and find our being.

Touch

I went to an AIDS/HIV commune today. One of the first things I noticed was that the people were quite standoffish. They weren't rude or anything, but they seemed a bit tense and separate. They didn't want to sit next to me and if I stood near them they would back up a few paces. I told myself that they have had a rough life and to not take it personally.

Then I heard more about their experiences. They had been through so much pain and separation due to their illness and the misconceptions around AIDS. Their own families, the people who were supposed to love them forever, kicked them out because they thought they were dirty and broken. These people were thrown out because of something that is not at all their fault.

When we prayed for them, I put my arm around one of the woman. After that point, she came up to me and did not leave my side. She spent the rest of the time there with her arm around my hip or holding my hand. She was desperate to be touched. I realized that they had kept their distance out of respect, out of fear of being seen as dirty. Yet at the same time, they so needed to feel loved. They needed to feel like they were still human, like they could touch and be near other people and still be okay. It was beautiful and tragic.

It reminded me of Mother Teresa and her time with the lepers. She often was told by those around her to be more careful when touching the sick people, to protect herself and not get too close. She would always respond in defense of human dignity, speaking of the Christ that it is within each of us. To not touch someone was to deny their divine nature, their humanity, and the love that moved them. It's beautiful, really... All that is held in a touch.

I think we need to touch each other more. I'm not saying in a way that is creepy, or unwanted. But with our friends and our family, when it is appropriate and welcome. Put your hand on someone's shoulder when you compliment them, hug your friend a little longer when you greet them, don't be afraid to walk too close to people. I don't know what it is, but there is something so pure, so spiritual in these small touches throughout the day. It's an honoring of someone's dignity, a recognition of their humanity, and a way to connect without words. There are so many people here that I can't have a real conversation with because of language barriers, but I will just sit holding their hand or with arms around each other for long periods of time. And it is that contact that brings our interconnectedness to the surface.