More Than a Failure

Today starts "World Suicide Prevention Week", and September is "National Suicide Awareness Month". Suicide is a big issue that isn’t talked about very often. I would know, I struggle with it chronically. The only reason I’m here right now is because of suicide prevention.

I remember the first time I checked into a hospital (after attempting), we were in the ER for what seemed like forever (probably 5 hours). We got to know the nurse and as I finally was leaving for the psych floor, I broke down crying. There were a lot of ugly cries that day. The nurse got down on my level and looked me in the eye, “Rachel, you aren’t a failure. Checking into the hospital, admitting you need help is not a failure. What is failing is giving up and hiding it away, not asking for help.” I think about that moment often and it has gotten me through a lot of shame-inducing experiences: getting diagnosed with BPD, having to go to therapy three times a week, and yes… checking into a psych ward a second time. I haven’t told a lot of people that because I worried people would think I’m incompetent. But it is the reason I’ve been able to keep going, because I got the help I needed.

Suicide is a lot more complicated than “I want to die”. Sometimes it’s because you feel stuck and option-less, or you feel like everything is over. Sometimes it’s a mental illness driving it, sometimes it’s your circumstances. Honestly, most of the times that I feel suicidal, I don’t want to die at all. I just want everything (whatever it is) to stop. Mental illness has affected my life more than I’d like people to know, and chronic suicidal thoughts come along with it. They come and go and I am often reminded . In the six years since I checked in that first time, I’ve met a lot of incredible people and seen a lot of incredible places. I’ve graduated from college, gotten a job that I absolutely LOVE (and helps get me up every day), and made relationships I can’t imagine life without. And, if I’d given up six years ago, or any of the nights I think of it still, none of that would have happened.

I am a lot more than my mental illness; a lot more than suicidal thoughts or psych ward stays. I’m a friend, a teacher, a daughter, a sister, an aunt (yay). I’m sarcastic, sassy, and kind (usually). I care and am wiling to drop anything for anyone. I try hard, fail a lot, and get up again anyway. Suicide might feel like the answer, but it isn’t. Life is #WorthLivingFor

Medications help, therapy works, and ice cream never hurt anyone. 

Blog post, August 2014:

Mental Health Websites
TWLOHA.com (To Write Love on Her Arms)
NAMI.org
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org