Winter Turns into Spring - The Blog

In November 2014, I was brought to E&A after overdosing on my anti-depressants. I hadn't swallowed enough to put my life in danger. What happened for me to reach a point where the only option I felt I had was to die?

At the end of June that year, I was engaged to a man. I was slowly getting ready to move in with him. My daughter was moving with her dad and all was arranged for her to start in her new school, in September. I was about to give my notice to my landlord but, suddenly, my partner send me a message letting me know he wasn't sure he wanted us to live together. To cut the long story short: he had met a woman while raving and behaved in such a way I had to do the dirty work of breaking up with him.

My daughter moving in with her Dad meant I was left alone in a two bedroom flat I couldn't afford to live in because of the new "bedroom tax" . In a nutshell, my mental health took a turn for the worse, I was unemployed and broke. With the help of a housing support worker I was able to stay a bit longer in my flat but, eventually, I would be evicted. My landlord's eviction notice ended on my 35th birthday. I didn't want to live past this birthday! I was so far away from the life I imagined for myself, at 35! I thought, I would be married, have one more baby and have a stable working life. I tried so hard to make all these dreams come true.I worked really hard. I was angry at myself. I was ashamed of what I had become. Worst of all, I felt I had failed my daughter. I truly believed she didn't love me and she didn't need me either: she was with her Dad and her family, she was safe. I was praying: "Ok Universe, I tried so hard to have a good life but, obviously this isn't meant to be, not for me. I keep doing all these silly things. I am tired, please let me go, please let me die!"

It wasn't the first time I felt so useless, so unloved and so sad that I wanted to end my life. At the age of 15, I overdosed on a lot of different medications and ended up in hospital for a week. When one of the nurses asked me why I did this to myself, I replied: " My Mum." As I mentioned before, she kept telling me she never wanted me. She kept telling me how stupid, ugly and useless I was so, what was the point of my existence?

Back in 2014, I was asked by a nurse: "Why did you do this?" My reply was: "Please, don't!" I was referred to the Home Treatment Team which meant someone was visiting me home every night to give me my medication and to check up on me. "Do you still feel suicidal?" I was often asked. "Did you try to have a bath/ read a book/ have a walk?" I got angry: "Don't you think I have tried everything already?" Indeed, I started to be in total despair after a day in Brighton. It was my last attempt to make me feel better. For few weeks, before this day trip, I had tried everything I could think of to light up my mood: reading, watching movies, taking soothing baths, meeting friends etc. Nothing seemed to relieved me from my pain. I came back in London from the seaside still in intense emotional pain and reached out for the meds.

One month later I was back in A&E because I felt suicidal again and a friend insisted I go to the hospital. I reluctantly let her take me there. We waited for hours and when I finally met the psychiatrist on duty that day, I was treated like a difficult, irrational person. I was asked about my daughter and then told I was just selfish for wanting to kill myself. This guilt trip didn't work. It made me feel worse. I was offered to stay for a few days in the psychiatric ward but then, it was decided it wasn't necessary as it seemed I just wanted to be sectioned as a way to escape my life's responsibilities. I lost my temper: "Taking myself to therapy in order to be a better mother, was this escaping my responsibilities? Facing the abuse I was the victim off as a child, was this not taking responsibility for my life?"

Since that horrible experience in A&E, I never went back, not for my mental health anyway. Personally, it is one of the worse place to go to if you feel suicidal. When someone try to end their lives, it isn't out of selfishness: it is because they are in a lot of pain. They have probably tried every self care tips already. They might have reached out to people but weren't heard. Some might have been told not to worry and encouraged to try harder to see the positive things in life. Others are called crazy and miserable.

In my opinion, the best way to support someone who is feeling suicidal is to be quiet, sit down and listen to how the person in front of us is feeling, even if it doesn't make sense to us. We need to meet people where they are right now! Statements such as "It will be ok." aren't helpful. Someone once told me: "Right now you are not ok; it doesn't matter if it will be ok sometimes in the future because, if you aren't supported right now, as you are feeling, you might now be here tomorrow."

If we are suffering to the point of wanting to die, it isn't because something is wrong with us: it is because something wrong happened to us . Whoever has been sexual abused by a member of family,is going to feel really depressed and won't see the point of their own existence. Recovery brings up so much pain I thought I was going to die from it. I am sure others feel the same too. So, we need to boil that kettle and we need to sit down and to listen to whoever is suffering. We don't need guilt trips or judgement: we need our experiences and feelings validated. We need safe relationships (with therapists and friends) in which we can be ourselves while facing our inner pains. We need acceptance too . We need love.

Sylvie

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