I Hid the Signs I Was Suicidal as Much as I Could
If you experience suicidal thoughts, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741741.
Suicide has quickly become one of the top killers across all age groups, races, sexes and socio-economic classes. You cannot go a week these days without seeing multiple stories in the news about suicide. Celebrities. Children. Veterans. And those are just the stories the press finds newsworthy enough to report on. Across the country and all around the world, people are dying by their own hands every single day at alarming numbers. And yet it is a topic nobody wants to talk about until it hits close to home. Even then, most people would rather talk about it in hushed whispers, a shameful secret they wish would just fade away.
I have struggled with major depression my entire life. I have been suicidal more than once. I am honestly not sure how I am even still alive today because, with each of my attempts, I told no one, I secluded myself, I gave no forewarning or signs that things had gotten so bad that I wanted to give up. Though people knew I was struggling, nobody really knew how badly. I didn’t want anyone to know because I didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to stop me. More than once, whether by the grace of God or some strange twist of fate, someone found me barely clinging to life. More than once, I woke up in the hospital not sure how I even got there.
I have also been on the other side of that fence, losing people I cared about to suicide. I have been blindsided by their death, torturing myself for feeling like I didn’t see the signs, not realizing how bad things were, not being there to help when they desperately needed someone. I have spent endless hours thinking back over missed opportunities where I might have been able to intervene and make a difference. I have been haunted by words I did not say and calls I did not make that might have made the difference between life and death.
Part of me, though, knows better than to torture myself with hindsight. I have been on both sides of that fence. I know all too well that unless you actually know what to look for, the signs are usually not even visible until someone is looking in the rear-view mirror. But by then it is too late. The crash has already happened. And you can’t turn back time. The best anyone can honestly do is be proactive, talk openly, honestly and regularly about their own mental health and that of those they care about. We need to make everyone’s mental health as much of a priority as our physical health. As hard a topic as suicide may be, it’s harder still to bury someone you love. I believe this difficult conversation is long past due.
Please know most people don’t wake up one day out of the blue and decide to kill themselves. Barring some drastic, life-altering circumstance or great loss that seemingly destroys someone’s entire life in a heartbeat, making them lose all hope in an instant, suicidal feelings usually develop over an extended period of anguish. The weight of the world is piled on, again and again, making everything feel increasingly hopeless. Eventually, you reach the point when you cannot take anymore. You’ve found the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back, and you collapse under the weight of it all.
You don’t go directly from life being fine to choosing to die like a car going from zero to 60 in a few seconds flat. It is a slow build. It usually begins with feeling overwhelmed with life itself. Everything feels increasingly too hard, too overwhelming. You begin to feel like you’re drowning, like you can never fully catch your breath. It feels like no matter what you do, nothing is ever going to change, that you’ve been dealt a losing hand and there’s no way to exchange your cards. The deck is rigged, and you’ve lost big time. Everything in life begins to feel like a struggle, an uphill battle, a fight you cannot win. You feel like you no longer have any control of your own fate. You become mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted, not sure how much longer you can keep going, how much strength you have left.
The first suicidal thoughts that creep in are abstract. You’re not making specific plans to kill yourself. You look outside during a snowstorm and ponder how long you would have to be exposed to the elements before everything just faded to black. You look at the currents of the river coursing by and ponder what it would be like to just be pulled under, swept away. When you pass a set of train tracks, you wonder where along the tracks it might be dark enough that they wouldn’t see you until it was too late. The thought of death is more of a fade to black. A sweet escape. Death itself becomes a daydream. Those abstract thoughts are commonly referred to as suicidal ideation.
With suicidal ideation, it isn’t so much about dying as it is about wanting to be freed from a life you feel is too painful to continue. The thought of death almost feels like a peaceful release. You become increasingly consumed by the thought of ending your suffering, of fading away, of just disappearing from the story, not having to fight or cry anymore, of just being free.
Most people who are suicidal honestly don’t want to die. For days, weeks, months, they’ve been soul-searching and agonizing, looking for any reason to keep going. It isn’t a decision made lightly or spur-of-the-moment. They’ve been secretly fighting to hold on, to live, to find any reason to cling. They have just reached the point where they feel they cannot take anymore, cannot hurt anymore, cannot go one more day living in their own personal hell.
Neither suicidal ideation nor suicide itself are a plea for attention. It honestly is not about anyone else at all. Nobody who tries to kill themselves is thinking, “I’ll show them!” or “They’ll be sorry when I’m gone!” By the time someone has made that ultimate choice, they aren’t even thinking of anyone else beyond being convinced that others would be better off without them. They feel completely isolated and alone, in agonizing pain. They are convinced their life is out of their hands and there is no way to fix anything. Death is the only exit they can see in the darkness.
People often describe a loss by suicide as “unexpected.” Those who have lost someone to suicide often feel lost and confused, bewildered about how anyone could give up on life when they “had so much to live for.” The problem is that by the time someone is at that point of giving up, they have fallen so deeply into the darkness that they can no longer see any of the light. All they can feel is hopelessness and despair. And they feel utterly alone.
It’s nearly impossible for those who have not been there themselves to understand how anything could possibly get that bad, how anything could feel so hopeless, how anyone could feel so alone. I have frequently seen suicide aptly described as a by-product of depression, heard others refer to suicide as a “death caused by a person’s mental illness.” Truer words have never been spoken.
Depression is a nefarious and deadly disease. It eats at your mental and emotional well-being. Depression feeds off your ability to distinguish reality and see anything but the darkness and despair the illness wants you to see. It systematically breaks and devours you until there is no will left to fight anymore.
Depression is not an illness you can easily disregard. You cannot just “suck it up.” It will not go away because you spew out some tired cliches about life or insist someone just try a little harder to be happy. Depression cannot be cured by taking a walk, going for a run or getting yourself a dog. It is not mind-over-matter or learning to toughen up. It is a serious medical condition and one that can have deadly consequences if left untreated.
There are often signs a person is suicidal — if you know them, look closely and listen.
Has the person withdrawn themselves from family and friends, frequently making excuses about being too busy, swamped with life or feeling under the weather?
Have they stopped doing things they enjoy? Quit groups or teams? Given up hobbies they once loved? Are they spending a good portion of their time alone seemingly doing nothing?
Have their sleep patterns changed drastically? Are they laying down and sleeping more or are they up more with insomnia, tossing and turning, unable to sleep?
Has their appearance changed drastically? Losing or gaining weight? Not showering as much or wearing dirty clothes? Keeping their hair pulled back so they never have to tend to it or not shaving for long periods of time that is inconsistent with how they used to present themselves?
Is their room or house even more of a mess than usual or are they frequently wearing stained clothes like they just don’t care anymore? Do they always seem to be asking you to “excuse the mess”?
Are they frequently talking about being exhausted, overly tired or fed up? Do they make comments about being tired of fighting or regularly insist life shouldn’t be this hard?
Are they frequently edgy, snippy and short with everyone as if they’re trying to push everyone away? Does everything seem to annoy them?
Are they frequently uncharacteristically silent as if they’re lost in their own world? Do they seem more scatterbrained than usual, like their mind is always off somewhere else?
Are they frequently sad, overly emotional or teary?
Do their emotional responses, in general, seem more raw, exaggerated and over-the-top as if they are feeling everything much stronger than usual?
Are they smiling and laughing less or are they pursing their lips together when they smile as if it was forced? Does their laughter seem less frequent and insincere, as if they’re trying to give you the reaction they believe you want even though their heart is not really in it?
Do they often blame puffy eyes or stuffy noses on allergies even when it’s not allergy season or they have not ventured outsides to be exposed to seasonal allergens?
Do they often insist they’re “fine” with no elaboration and claim they don’t want to talk about it when pressed, using dismissive phrases like “it is what it is” as if they have no control over their own life?
These are just some of the common signs of depression. Though they do not necessarily mean a person is currently considering suicide, it is likely they are struggling along that path. If you see drastic changes in mood and appearance, don’t be afraid to speak up and ask whether they’re OK. If someone doesn’t seem like themselves, there is usually a reason why. Don’t be afraid to call attention to drastic changes that concern you.
And please know it should never be a “one and done.” Even if you inquired once and they insisted they were fine, you can’t shrug and walk off, telling yourself, “Hey, I tried.” If someone’s depression has gotten bad enough that you can see multiple signs, it did not happen overnight, and it is not going to be resolved overnight either. It might take multiple times of checking in and reaching out before someone is finally able to open up.
That is because depression isolates us. It gets into our head and convinces us nobody cares, that we are all alone in the world. It is easier for us to believe someone is asking how we are just to be nice or to make polite small talk than to believe they’re genuinely invested in our well-being.
People struggling with depression also often have a lot of trust issues. Most likely, we have tried talking to others in the past and have been shot down or had our feelings minimized. Or we have heard you or others talk dismissively about their struggles so we’re unsure how supportive you’ll be for us. We’re afraid of being seen as weak or broken or “crazy.” We’re afraid to let anyone in only to get hurt again. Everything has felt like a fight for so long that we’re wary about letting anyone else in, too. And we don’t want to be a burden or to let anyone down by admitted we aren’t “strong enough.”
You cannot let yourself be discouraged, though. Continue to reach out every few days, even if just to check in about how they are doing. If someone seems to be canceling plans a lot to go out, offer to come over and visit. If they make excuses about a mess, offer to help them clean it. If they claim they feel under the weather, offer to bring soup. Whatever you do, don’t let them continue to isolate. Let them know you miss them and just want to see them. Reinforce that they matter.
Coordinate with others in their life. Take turns checking in and offering reassurances. Make it clear that multiple people care and that they are not alone. Create a united front where everyone can face the depression together.
Most importantly, make it clear it is OK to talk about whatever they are feeling and to get help. Don’t further stigmatize doctors or medication. Don’t suggest it’s all in their head or tell them to suck it up and get over it. Don’t treat them like they’re crazy or broken. Remember, they are sick and need help. Be supportive. Be part of the solution, not part of the problem.
If you are seeing yourself in these words, if you are exhausted and struggling to keep going, tired of fighting, tired of hurting, wanting to give up, please realize those feelings are not reality. Your depression is lying to you, making all the bad in your life feel exaggerated and overwhelming and is snuffing out the light. Please know you are not alone and there are others out there who understand completely what you are going through. Reach out. Talk to friends, family, a therapist, a pastor. Someone. Anyone. Don’t shut everyone out. I know all too well that siren’s call that death will bring peace, but it really won’t. Not for you and not for everyone in your life that you’ll be leaving behind. You can get past this.
Looking back, I am grateful I haven’t died. I feel blessed to still be here. Because now I have the ability to reach out and help others, to be the voice that shines like a beacon to light up the darkness. I am in a unique position where I understand not only the great loss that comes with losing someone to suicide but also the steep descent into the hopelessness of depression myself. Suffering in silence for years almost killed me multiple times. I can only hope that by finally speaking up, speaking out, I can help save others from succumbing to that darkness themselves.
Depression and suicide have robbed the world of so many beautiful souls. Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, children, friends. They have stolen so many lives from us far too soon. We can no longer look away, then claim later we didn’t see the signs, didn’t know things were that bad. We are one society, one world. We have to start acting like it. We must start looking out for one another, be there for each other, truly listen and hear. The signs are there. We just have to take off our blinders and see them. We cannot pretend everything is fine because we don’t want to have an uncomfortable conversation. Inaction kills. We need to be proactive, not only with our own mental health but towards those we care about, as well. We all have the power to save lives if we are willing to actually reach out and try.
This story originally appeared on Unloveable.
Getty image by Darya.