CAUTION: SUICIDE
This topic has always been a tough one for me, as I have continuously battled with these dark thoughts over the years. It might appear as though I harbour an obsession with the concept of my demise.
Regardless of my feelings, this topic cannot be ignored, as it has become a common conversation point in my daily life.
I am truly shaken by the news of the individuals I know who have tragically ended their lives in the past six months.
Not all these deaths can be attributed to chronic mental health issues, as some were spontaneous choices made in response to a sudden trauma.
The individuals I knew were grappling with bipolar disorder, anxiety, and depression. I intentionally chose to address these conditions separately rather than grouping them.
Without firsthand experience of living with mental health conditions, one should refrain from hastily labelling suicide as a cowardly choice.
Some may label it selfish, but who truly is selfish?
Labelling someone as selfish is simply a reflection of your shortcomings. How significant was their presence in your life? Did you even make time for them?
I’ve also noticed that when someone takes their own life, they suddenly seem to attract a lot of new friends. Everyone wants to be the focal point and share their stories.
I’m sorry, but I’d prefer a more passive role.
Why embellish your impact on their life when you likely offered little to no support or encouragement?
I want to clarify that I am not bragging about my numerous failed attempts or the one that could have been the final chapter. However, I am more than willing to share with you the emotions that I went through during those times.
Each survivor’s journey is as distinct as a fingerprint, with no two stories mirroring each other.
I won’t disclose the troubling thoughts or harmful intentions that once plagued me, but I am confident that there is a greater purpose for my existence.
Since I was young, I have longed for an escape from the overwhelming chaos of my thoughts, emotions, and surroundings, yearning for a release that death seemed to promise.
During that time, the internet was not yet around, so as a child, I would have had no means to explore information on how to end my life.
During my adolescence, I faced many challenges, and my initial suicide attempt took place at a train station. However, I am convinced that a higher power intervened and prevented me from going through it.
When I was 18, I began a few months of therapy with a compassionate therapist named Patsy, but our sessions were cut short when she moved away.
I never bothered asking for another referral from the GP, instead choosing to bottle up my emotions and frustrations with suppression and anger.
I was a person overflowing with anger and rage. My relationships were toxic and self-destructive, and I was the ultimate pessimist. To make matters worse, I grew up to accept unhealthy emotional patterns.
I couldn’t understand why those close to me were slowly drifting away due to my learned strong beliefs and actions.
I was consumed by loneliness, cut off from the world and constantly plagued by a sense of not fitting in. The people who were supposed to be my support pillars were instead sources of hostility and resentment towards me.
I navigated life with a fractured sense of identity. My true self remained a mystery, hidden beneath the veil of my mind’s shadows. In moments of darkness, many personalities emerged, each taking their turn in the spotlight.
I effortlessly maintained this facade for as long as I can remember; it felt like second nature.
I never felt the need to label my different personalities; I just allowed them to coexist within me.
While hanging out with friends, I often adopted two different personas and channelled the confidence of TV characters to enhance my own.
The only time I truly felt like myself was when I was alone in the comfort of my own home.
Was that indeed who I was meant to be? I was miserable, dreading each new day and seeking solace in substances to numb the internal pain.
At some point, everyone reaches a breaking point, particularly when they believe there is no escape from the overwhelming weight of negative thoughts and emotions that persistently plague their mind.
I didn’t sit around feeling sorry for myself in my twenties and thirties because the emotional and mental pain from my childhood persisted into adulthood, never fading away.
Despite my efforts, others’ opinions of me remained unchanged. I was held responsible for everything, always the scapegoat and the outsider.
It’s simple to advise leaving the past behind when you have a solid support network, but when you feel like you don’t have a place to call home, accepting that advice becomes a challenge.
I never once considered seeking therapy during my destructive journey, hoping that I wouldn’t have to face any external pain to find peace and having faith that a solution would present itself in due time.
I was completely unaware that a painless technique could cause such life-altering trauma to my body.
After years of frequent hospital visits, I was finally referred to psychiatric services at the age of 34. Following a year of extensive testing, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Affective Disorder, also known as Manic Depression.
I was displeased with both the diagnosis and the prescribed medication, which made me hesitant about taking them responsibly.
I spent a long time in denial about my mental health issues. Instead of accepting my diagnosis, I would often engage in arguments with professionals because I allowed other people’s opinions to cloud my judgment.
I have always struggled with depression, but there are times when my mood swings dangerously sent me into a delusional state where I believed I was invincible and would indulge in risky situations and excessive spending.
In 2011, I was brought to my knees when I lost my job and was left with a crippling debt that seemed impossible to repay.
The sense of worthlessness and rejection ultimately brought my battle to a close.
I thought things over and tried to seek support, but unfortunately, I was rejected at every base.
I thought this was the end for me, overwhelmed by the pain, the disappointment, and the hatred I felt was directed towards me. The looming possibility of losing my home only added to my fears. My mind raced with thoughts of homelessness and poverty, my worst nightmare coming to life.
I came to terms with the belief that I was unworthy of love, lacking in attractiveness, unintelligent, and simply a burden on this world. It seemed like the best solution for everyone would be for me to take that final step into the darkness.
I convinced myself to swallow all of my medication from the cabinets, along with a bottle of port.
If it weren’t for divine intervention yet again, this suicide attempt would have been a success.
Fast forward to the present, my most recent attempt was in July 2018, more than a year after my beloved Father passed away from the devastating illness of cancer.
There was a lot of pain and chaos leading up to this moment, but I chose not to dwell on the four years of destructive alcoholism that consumed me.
My journey through the darkness has taught me that a spark of light can always be found, even in the bleakest moments. Hope is a constant companion in the presence of life.
The decisions I made when I felt most vulnerable and at my lowest point directly represented my state of mind.
It was on October 4th, 2018, that my life took a new direction, marking the beginning of my journey towards sobriety.
Discovering the meeting spaces of Alcoholics Anonymous has provided me with the motivation I required, and I have diligently adhered to the 12-step program for my journey to recovery.
I won’t sugarcoat it — life isn’t a breeze. The bipolar diagnosis is still present, and I’m working hard to manage my life by staying dedicated to taking my medication regularly and fighting a daily battle with my mind.
Since 2014, I have undergone numerous therapies, and I have found that they are only effective if you put in the effort to make them work.
There are moments when suicidal thoughts still cross my mind, but I have not felt compelled to act on them.
Living with constant anxiety and chronic depression means battling three times as hard to survive each day.
Letting go of the past can be a challenge for many, but it’s important to remember that holding onto it only allows it to shape your future.
I regret not finding myself earlier before middle age crept in. There are countless missed opportunities and experiences I wish I had embraced. If I had been more mentally and emotionally grounded, I could have built a family and shared my love with someone special.
I choose not to fixate on the past and instead focus on my healing journey. Everything happens for a purpose, and I have learned to embrace that truth.
I have come to accept and acknowledge my mental health diagnosis, and I will no longer conceal or be ashamed of the obstacles I face.
I feel blessed to have the strength and resources to face my struggles. I am enthusiastic about exploring my inner self and embracing personal growth and change.
The fellowship’s support has been invaluable to me, and I have discovered that some family members genuinely care about my well-being.
Embracing sobriety and working on self-improvement has allowed me many positive accomplishments.
I have successfully written and published seven books to support and inspire individuals on their path to self-discovery.
It took incredible bravery and courage for me to write the contents of these books, as they reveal my vulnerabilities on a profoundly personal level. Readers gain insight into my imperfections by sharing my journey towards self-acceptance and understanding.
Today, I consciously tried to handle the situation more healthily, avoiding self-destructive behaviours and adopting a more optimistic mindset.
Throughout the pandemic, I dedicated myself to studying 21 subjects, earning diplomas in areas focused on supporting the psychological and mental health of others. My pursuit of knowledge was driven by a genuine desire to assist and uplift those in need, reflecting a selfless commitment to making a difference in the lives of others.
One valuable lesson I’ve learned is prioritising my well-being, even if it means potentially disappointing others.
Each morning, I begin my day by tending to my hygiene, ensuring I take my medication, and finally dedicating time to connect with my spiritual faith. After grounding myself in this routine, I approach the day with optimism, prepared to tackle whatever obstacles or moments of happiness come my way.
‘Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.’ Benjamin Doughty
I have abandoned my attempts to end my life and instead embraced the realisation that my time has not yet arrived. I am now determined to fulfil the purpose that awaits me on this earth, trusting in God’s timing for it all to unfold.
I maintain harmony in my mind, body, and spirit by expressing gratitude to God.
In everything, there must be a balance.
Natalie M Bleau
Scripture of Balance