She would always tell herself she could do this
She would use no help it would be just fine
But when it got hard she would lose her focus
So take my hand and we’ll be alright…

What does suicide look like?

Does it look like a person crying in the corner, unable to function? Sometimes, yes. Does it look like the person sat at the bar having a drink and a laugh? Sometimes, yes. Does it look like the person carrying on with their life, going to work, looking after their children, smiling and saying they are fine. Sometimes, yes.

Suicide can also looks like this.

You aren’t seeing things, that is me, Sunday 22nd July 2018, the day before I hit rock bottom. I have thought really hard about how I wanted this blog to be read, and there is nothing more I can say to you than the truth.

Any of you that have followed my journey this past year know it has been pretty tough on myself and my family. Everything with my Mum and still grieving for my Dad. My relapses, the ups and downs that come with every day life. It has been pretty rough.

I’m not ashamed to say, for a moment, I gave up. I gave up hope, I gave up on life.

This past few months I have really struggled with controlling my emotions. I had a shit time at work. I’ve been physically poorly and as you know I was signed off work for the best part of 5 months with a depressive relapse.

In those few months I have been on a rollercoaster of ups and downs. More downs than ups. Don’t get me wrong I know I have a lot in my life to be grateful for. My beautiful baby boy Caleb. My wonderful fiancé Ash. My wonderful family, along with Ash’s supportive family (extended as well) and of course my dear friends.

Monday 23rd July, this started out a wonderful day. Filled with day time drinking with one of my best friends and a trip up to London for some dinner, cocktails and to see Mamma Mia.

I was excited. Exhausted but excited.

I had been drinking every day from the previous Thursday right up to the Monday. Clare and I had the best part of a bottle of Gin on the Thursday. Then on the Friday I was in London to see The Gaslight Anthem with my sister Kayleigh and her fiancé Tom. Which by the way was amazing!

We’re never going home until the sun says we’re finished
I’ll love you forever if I ever love at all
Wild hearts, blue jeans, & white t-shirts.

I love seeing bands live, forever booking gig tickets with my sister. But this night was different. I was overly emotional. Cried a lot and by the end of the night I was a bit of a mess. I had been having a shit time, but had been trying to cover it all up. Apparently with a lot of alcohol.

Then Saturday came, I drove back to Kent and went to Ash’s brothers house for a family BBQ. It was lovely, but again involved a lot of Gin and by the end of the day I was done. I was exhausted, drunk and emotional. I just went to bed, thought I could sleep it off and wake up in a better mood for the next days activities.

So where are we now? Sunday? Right yes, Sunday was a sober, hungover day. We had Ash’s cousin’s beautiful little girls christening. It was a lovely day. So hot, which did not help the hangover or exhaustion but it was lovely. Quality family time. I love spending time with Ash’s family. I guess where mine is so small and my extended family are scattered all over the country, all over the world really, I miss my parents even more sometimes.

It really was a lovely few days, despite the hangovers and the tears. I enjoyed myself. I didn’t in my wildest dreams think I would do what I did. Feel the way I did. Try and end things the way I did.

So it’s Monday, like I said, trip with Clare to London. Day drinking and I was on one. Quick double in the pub before we got on the train.  Cans of gin on the train to London. Happy hour, fifteen minutes left, we will have two cocktails then! More cans of gin while wondering around Covent Garden, which was so much fun. We stopped and listened to a busker who was doing covers of all songs we both loved, and like I’ve said before, I love live music so this was heaven for me, and he was pretty good! Then we got to the theatre, double gin from the bar. Another double during the interval. Then a pit stop in a pub for another drink before we got the train home. Then you guessed it, more cans of gin on the train home. Of course when we got back to Maidstone I wanted to go out, but Clare was exhausted, so was I, I was just avoiding home and reality at all costs. But we went home.

Like I said before, I had been having a really shit time with everything just getting on top of me. I had fallen out with whom I thought was a good friend and you know what, he really hurt me. I confided in him a lot about my feelings and how low I was over the past six months and he always listened. Little did I know that really he just thought I was silly and deluded in thinking my life was shittier than everyone else’s, that I thought the whole worlds problems were my own. WOW. I never thought of myself as a self centred person, and I always make time for my friends. I listen and I never dull down their issues just because I have my own. I had listened to his problems when he chose to share them with me. I always asked how he was and for a long time, he didn’t even ask me if I was okay.

I don’t really know why this friendship ended the way it did. But it really got to me. I started to doubt myself. Doubt if I was rightful in feeling the way I do about my Dad’s death, my bipolar and my Mum being sick. Doubting myself about generally just having a bit of a shit time.
I don’t think that I am the only person who has problems. I know life is shit for everyone. But I guess what I was hoping for, was some help, some support, something. I was crying for help and he wasn’t listening.

Just because someone is smiling, doesn’t mean they are okay. Just because suicide doesn’t have a generic face, doesn’t mean it isn’t out there. I was asking for help, and I didn’t get it.

We were back home, it was about 12.30am I think and I decided to run a bath, I was hot and uncomfortable and the bath is my happy place. I’ll put in a Lush bath bomb, play some music and chill out for half an hour or so.
I have a very strict routine when it comes to “bath time” for me. I start running the bath, have a cigarette, sort out the iPad, bathe, get out and take my meds immediately after getting out the bath.

Monday fucked that routine right up. I poured another gin while running the bath, I sorted the iPad, had a cigarette, then decided to take my meds before even getting into the bath…

You’re probably wondering why this even matters. But to me routine is everything. If my routine is off, I often forget to take my meds or I get agitated and sometimes upset. I know it’s weird, but that’s how it is for me.

If I am completely honest, I think this had been playing on my mind, round and round in circles.

“No one would miss you. Caleb will end up hating you like everyone does anyways. Ash hates you. You are a burden on everyone. Life is too much for me right now. I can’t cope. I just want to get this anger and frustration out. I just want to cry. I just want the pain to go away. I just want to end it all.”

So I went to my drawer to get my bag with all my meds in. I took them out, then put them all back, except my sleeping pills; the Zopiclone. 12, 3.75mg and 12, 7.5mg. I took them into the kitchen and took a swig of my gin. Then did a quick google search, overdose on Zopiclone – it told me that fatal dose is the equivalent to 150mg. I figured what I had with the alcohol I had it would be enough.
So I proceeded to take 12 of the pills, then I casually went outside for a cigarette. I then got into my rose jam bath and listened to Beyoncé – Me, Myself and I.

Me, myself, and I, that’s all I got in the end
That’s what I found out
And it ain’t no need to cry, I took a vow that from now on
I’m gon’ my own best friend.

I then took the other 12 tablets with my gin. The rest is a massive blur. I remember parts. I know I spoke to my friend for a few minutes on the phone, I had told him what I had planned to do previous to actually taking the pills. But mostly I cant remember anything. Next thing I know, I wake up at home Wednesday lunch time.

I had to ask Ash and Clare, oh yeah lets not forget my friend was asleep in my lounge while I did all of this.
Well, the long and short of it was my friend obviously convinced me to tell Ash. So I called him to come in the bathroom and he found me slumped in the bath, unconscious. He called Clare for help and they had to drag me out of the bath and take me to the bedroom, they called an ambulance and dressed me.
I was taken to Maidstone A&E on my own. Ash couldn’t leave Caleb and obviously Clare had been drinking as well. Not that it made any difference to me, I was unconscious. I had a drip and bloods taken etc. Then I had an assessment with the Psychiatric Liaison team. Again, none of this I remember. Apparently Ash even got me a lemon muffin as I was saying how hungry I was.
I was eventually discharged around 8pm Tuesday night and Ash brought me home, I passed out in bed and woke up the next day around lunchtime.

This is what suicide can look like. This is what depression can look like. As well as that smiley girl that was having fun. This is the reality of me the following Wednesday. I took these pictures to remind myself that I had survived. My worst day/night had been and gone. I had survived.

This wasn’t like when I was a teenager and took overdoses. I don’t think I even really knew what I was doing then. I didn’t have anything to lose, other than the obvious; my life. This time I had everything to lose. My son, my Ash, my family, my friends, my life.

To say I am angry at myself would be a complete understatement. To say I’m upset would again be an understatement. To say I’m depressed and lonely, scared and confused would also be an understatement.

Did you know that more than 55,000 suicides occur in the European Union each year, including more than 6,000 in the UK and Ireland. That means, there is one death by suicide every two hours and many more who are thought to attempt suicide. No one talks about it. This is such a taboo subject still! I was very nearly one of those numbers. I was made to feel like my feelings were unnecessary, irrational a coward and selfish. While I agree to an extent that suicide is selfish. I do not for one minute believe that it is a cowards way out. It takes a lot of strength to wake up every day and push through for the sake of everyone else and not yourself.  To want to live for yourself means finding that love and strength inside of you. That is easier said than done when there is a lot of loss and death, sadness and depression in your life.

You can judge me, you can think that I am selfish, but for me in that moment I felt completely alone and no matter how misjudged my actions were. I felt in that moment that was my way out from this pain.

Putting on a brave face is hard work and sometimes it is easier to see the darkness rather than the light. But that is what I am trying to do now. Move on and recover from this darkness. No, that pain hasn’t gone. They didn’t give me some magical meds that make me forget all the darkness in my life but I am getting some counselling put in place and other talking therapies. I am seeing a psychiatrist to see my medication needs to be adjusted again or changed. But most importantly, I have opened my eyes to what I have.

For all that I have lost in my life, I have this little miracle that saved my life once and will continue to be a driving force for myself to get into the best place, emotionally, mentally and physically. I think I need him more than he needs me. I need that reason other than myself to wake up in the morning. I need my little boy.

More than anything, I have realised how loved I am. By so many. It is quite overwhelming to know how many people actually care about you. The ones that would drop everything to be by your side. The ones that will listen and not make you feel bad for feeling depressed or alone. The ones that would literally drag your naked body out of the bath to save your life…
I have a lot of people to be thankful for in my life, and I will never forget that again. I couldn’t be more grateful for the love and support I have from the people that really matter.

This is my face right now, no make up, no filters, I am exhausted and I am barely sleeping. My body is still recovering from what I have put it through and my mind is on a long road to recovery. But I am determined to fight, fight to live, not for you but for myself.

What does suicide look like?

I can tell you honestly, suicide has no face. It could walk to past in the street and you may never see it again. It is a hidden face behind a mask that more often than not is silently screaming to be saved. Depression, anxiety, personality disorders, bipolar, schizophrenia and any other mental health condition does not discriminate and anyone of us at any point in our lives may be faced with this demon. Just like any other disease or illness. Just because you can’t see it, does not mean it is not a harsh reality for some people to live with. So I beg you, smile at that person in the shop, ask your friends if they’re okay. If you see someone in distress don’t just walk away and think it’s not your problem, or I don’t know how to help or someone else will see to them. We can’t save everyone in this world, but we can sure do our best to try and support each other!

“Rock bottom was the solid foundation on which I built my life”
J.K. Rowling

Music, as you know is such a support for me. It helps me express how I am feeling and it helps me cry, smile and dance.
Shawn Mendes – A Little Too Much, perfectly describes how I am feeling right now. The sadness, anger and every other emotion that has built up inside me right now is unreal. But I know the fog will clear and I will survive.
When your heart is broken, for whatever reason, when you are reminiscing of the good and the bad times. Remember “Keep your head up, keep your love, keep your head up, my love.” – The Lumineers – Stubborn Love.
There are two songs by Kings of Leon that are helping me right now, they are Walls and Waste a Moment. One is about trying to fight through with a broken heart, and the other is telling you to take the time to waste a moment. Waste it on that extra hug, that random hello and smile as you walk down the street, at that gig or party, just take the time to notice how much love is around you. 

https://www.samaritans.org/how-we-can-help-you/contact-us

https://www.kmpt.nhs.uk/services/maidstone-community-mental-health-team/6960

https://www.papyrus-uk.org/contact

http://www.nspa.org.uk/directories/

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/helplines/

You are never alone. Your voice will always be heard, listened to and you can always get help.

Being Becka x