28th Nov 2018

Can’t believe it’s nearly December. This year has, in some senses, flown by. This time last year I was unemployed and lonely, doing nothing, staying in bed all the time. Since then I’ve joined a Recovery College, started voluntary work, started a part-time job, moved house, moved in with my partner, started a temp job, sort-of joined a choir and started a contract job.

Recently I’ve struggled a lot with financial pressures and job stuff. I’ve started my latest job but, tbh, it’s a bit of a headfuck. I’m not sure I have the capability to do well.

I’ve been so stressed that my eczema has got out of control; I can’t sleep, I can’t go out. If I’m at work, I have to go to the toilets to scratch my itchy skin to shreds every time I get anxious. I went to the doctors (finally) and burst into tears immediately. I didn’t talk about my mental-ness though; I just finally admitted that my skin is too bad for me to deal with alone. I felt, and feel, ashamed that I can’t control my long term conditions. I should be able to by now. I’ve got about a billion skin-related prescriptions, but avoided all mental health ones. I don’t know why. I’m embarrassed to need antidepressants again. Maybe next time I’ll admit I need it.

I’m feeling exhausted all the time atm. Looking forward to the weekend. Hopefully I can just have a quiet one.

Boring ramble today. I feel like I have loads in my brain but I can’t get it out. I’m all clogged up. My brain feels like a blocked up sink and nothing can get through.

16th October 18

I am very, very cold. My fingernails are blue. I’m wearing my scarf and dressing gown and blanket. I guess the reason I’m cold is that I’ve barely done anything in the last week or so. I’ve hardly moved from the sofa.

I had a temp job a couple of weeks ago. It was awful. I had to manage the diary of someone very senior. On one hand, I am ‘over qualified’ for this job. But on the other hand, this is the sort of job that I really, really, really can’t handle and feel like I am not good enough for. If I make a mistake, it is obvious for everyone to see. If I put in a meeting on the wrong day, everyone invited (loads of senior people with important things to do) will know and get annoyed. If I mess up on timings, it would ruin someone else’s day. I could make this person get up at 6am and work all day until 7pm; that’d be within my control. I know it sounds ludicrous, but I can’t handle this role at all. I felt my anxiety spiralling.

I was only there a week but I struggled with one of my colleagues, too. She would send me loads and loads and loads to do, and give me no time to do it. And when I said there wouldn’t be time to complete all the work in a particular time frame, she made me feel really small and useless. Other times, I would have nothing to do and there were lots of big empty stretches of time when I was really bored. She was also really patronising. On my last day, she intercepted lots of emails to me, looked over my shoulder constantly and basically chucked me out the door. I appreciate I’m just a temp that she doesn’t know, but her attitude was really – for want of a better word – shitty. In fact, several people at that place seemed a bit self-important, in my opinion. But maybe that’s just my anxiety trying to make excuses for what I am lacking.

Anyway. I quit that job. The following week, I didn’t have any temp work lined up, but I did have some interviews so I thought I’d give myself some time off for my anxiety to return to normal levels and to prepare for my interviews. I also did some stuff like signed up to the doctor and other little chores I hadn’t been able to do before. Tuesday, I had the interview. I have this problem where my brain and my mouth don’t seem to connect. I used to really want to say stuff and have it all planned out in my brain, but physically not be able to say it. Now, I find myself babbling away without any thought process from my brain at all. I find myself listening to my words and going ‘what the FUCK am I talking about?’. But anyway, despite this, I somehow got offered the job. I accepted, of course, and was told that I can start just as soon as the admin stuff is sorted. So I waited the rest of Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. No paperwork came through. I had had another interview lined up, but cancelled it because I’d accepted this job.

My anxiety about the PA role had started to fade, but the empty days started filling with other worries and thoughts:

• Can I do this new role, will I do it well?
• Will my new colleagues like me, will I fit in?
• How will I manage driving through rush hour (very stressful)?
• What will I do if I start getting anxious or depressed?
• What if I can’t do this job, I’ll have to do more temp work and I’ve fucked things up with the agency now?
• What if there is an issue with this job, which is why it’s taking so long to get the paperwork?
• What if I should have gone to the interview I turned down?
• What if I can never work again?

And then this progressed to non-work stuff like:

• Are things with my boyfriend ok, does he even like me?
• Do my boyfriend and I work? I don’t think we do. Why are we together?
• My friends are meeting next weekend but I am too anxious, do I have to go? What lie can I tell to avoid it?
• My boyfriend’s friends are visiting, where shall I go to avoid them?
• I went out last weekend and got drunk, what did I do? Does everyone hate me for being stupid and idiotic and horrible?

Etc etc.

I should be being productive, while I’m off – I should go to the dentist and get my hair cut – but I feel too low to leave the house. I spend all day thinking and thinking about the things I need to do, and never doing them. Lots of people on Twitter are giving me really useful advice but I still can’t do it. When my boyfriend comes home from work, he’s like ‘oh, another lazy day?’ because he sees the washing up not done, the house a mess, and me sitting on the sofa in the exact same place as when he left. He doesn’t understand that I have no energy to do anything. I feel like a car that looks ok but doesn’t start.

I’ve started sleeping in the spare bedroom. I don’t know why. I just feel like less of a burden. My skin gets bad when I’m stressed, so I’m scratching non-stop, and I feel guilty for disturbing his sleep at night. He hasn’t asked me why I’m sleeping in another room. The other day, I read that this person, who has contamination OCD, hates seeing people with rashes and bad skin because s/he fears getting contaminated by it. So another reason for me to never go out. I think I should become a recluse. I’d never have to inflict my presence or my disgustingness or my mentalness on anyone else.

I could go on for hours and hours about how miserable I am and how shit things are for me etc. But I know that things aren’t *really* shit for me. I know that things are actually ok, but I just don’t feel it. I feel like I want to die.

So.

Yeah.

 

6th October

Life. It’s pretty shit, isn’t it? This isn’t what I want.

My boyfriend is in the other room playing FIFA. I don’t even remember when we last spent any nice time together, other than when we’re just watching TV at home after work, too tired to do anything else. I try to suggest stuff but he doesn’t get enthused. Then his friend will suggest a night out in a craft beer place and he’s super excited. I get that romance etc doesn’t last forever but… we’re only young. It should be better than this… surely?

I’m unemployed again. I started a new contract last week but… it was horrible. It was like an allergic reaction, as soon as I started it I got tense, angry, stressed, anxious, itchy, afraid. I had nightmares. I gave in my notice asap but had to work the rest of the week. It was my last day today, which was weird. I worked really hard, despite hating it, but I felt patronised and belittled. Hard to tell what comes from my own thoughts and what comes from them, though. I felt awkward during the interview, but maybe that was actually just my gut reaction to the sound of the job, rather than how they felt about me (since they chose me).

Anyway. Over that now. Got some interviews lined up but, tbh, they are all too much for me. I need a nice, quiet job doing some filing or photocopying or laminating. And a rich husband. I want to cancel the interviews but got nothing else to do so might as well go, I guess.

I just want to feel better. Have fun. Enjoy life. Is it possible? Or is it all such a slog? I just don’t know. What’s the point?

11th September

It’s been a while since I last wrote (I say that nearly every time, but this time I think it’s been about a month!).

I think it’s because nothing is new, nothing really has changed.

But here is a bit of a moan about my life anyway.

I’m still not really doing too well in the ‘self care’ way of things. I’ve done this thing where, basically, I’ve become my boyfriend’s shadow. Whatever he does or wherever he goes, I seem to do or go too. If he does something without me, I pretty much wait at home doing nothing until he gets back. I have no friends or thoughts or hobbies or plans of my own. I wouldn’t mind if it was stuff that I wanted to do, but traipsing around bars and watching football documentaries ain’t my kind of thing! So I’m bored and miserable and grumpy all the time. I need to separate myself from him a bit and get my personality back. I really want to move into our spare room for a bit, make that my own space, and get back into a healthy routine (yoga, mindfulness, reading, painting etc). He says that I can do that anyway, without moving into the spare room, but I just… can’t. I don’t know why. I just need that bit of space.

I’ve also written on this blog before that I can’t cook for him (or anyone). It really stresses me out. I want to start cooking food just for myself, so I build up confidence again. I haven’t cooked in so long that I’ve kind of forgotten how. But my boyfriend doesn’t understand why I don’t just cook for both of us. And I know that it’s me that’s the weird one, not him, so I can’t push it. But it’s making me feel trapped. I’m losing all my sense of self.

ANYWAY. I’ve been working at that same temp job for a while now, and it has built my confidence up loads. I am actually MAKING PHONE CALLS to find out information, which I have never actively done before in my life. Unfortunately, the contract expires this week and then I’m unemployed again. I have been trying to find something new, but I am so exhausted from trying so hard at work and from struggling at home that I haven’t done too well at job applications. Dreading being unemployed, because I lose confidence and energy so quickly.

I do need to go to the doctors though (I still haven’t registered with my new GP, because it is intimidating and scary). And I need to do the MOT and Service on my car (which I also haven’t done yet because it is intimidating and scary). And I need new insurance. It’s exhausting thinking about all these chores I have to do. But I should be able to at least get those done while I’m unemployed.

I think that’s pretty much it. Rant over. How are you all? Hope you’re ok. Do you have life updates of your own to share? x

17th July

Realised that I’m not doing much to help my recovery right now. I’ve got embarrassed about being mental and am hiding it all again. Pushing it down and pretending it doesn’t exist.

I haven’t talked, out loud, about my MI for ages. I used to do it at some of the groups and volunteering I attended, but now I don’t do any of that. I’ve got out of the habit and it’ll be hard to be able to do it again. Twitter and blogging are different, somehow. It’s less real.

I haven’t got anyone to talk to and, right now, I can’t find time to even go to the doctors because I’m temping, paid by hour, and need every penny.

Apparently I have got a new job but no written confirmation on that so who knows. And obviously no way I’d tell them anything anyway.

I don’t have money to join any groups or do many activities, to get out the house or make friends. I signed up to loads of volunteering but can’t find any weekend stuff (and can’t do during the week cos of my job).

Plus I’m so exhausted, I need the weekend and evenings to sleep. I literally get home from work and need a nap, just to cope with the mental processing during the day. I can never be bothered with any hobbies at home. I’m too tired. I have been reading more, but that’s about it.

I’m going to try to do parkrun but it’s been cancelled quite a lot in my local area recently, so I haven’t been able to do it so far. I used to do yoga but I feel embarrassed doing it at home now. Before, I had my own room to do yoga in peace, but now I share my room and the living area with my boyfriend, and I feel silly and lazy and embarrassed.

Ugh. So tired. This probably doesn’t make much sense. Sorry for whining. Everything is fine. It’s all pretty much same as normal.

I just need to go to bed.

Hope you’re all well x

18th June – hills, lakes and social media breaks

(I’m so pleased with myself for that title. It rhymes.)

It was my birthday last week, and my boyfriend whisked me away to the Lake District for the weekend! I’d never been before (or at least, not since I’ve been old enough to appreciate it).

It was a surprise trip, so I didn’t have much time to worry about it or over think things. It took me a while to pack, and I kept asking him what I needed and if what I had was going to be ok etc. (He laughed a little bit about this, but I had the last laugh because he forgot to take any jumpers. June in the Lake District is COLD!). But other than that, nerves were kept to a minimum.

I was in charge of driving, since I’m the only one who can drive, so that kept me busy too, navigating the motorways and trying not to crash into anyone.

As soon as we got to the B&B, we dropped our stuff off and headed off to climb a mountain. I would like to say I was energetic and enthusiastic and bounded along merrily, but sadly that was not the case. I don’t know why, but I felt exhausted – physically and mentally. I had to drag myself along and take many, many rest stops. It doesn’t help that I’m ridiculously unfit.

My boyfriend kept me motivated (although I will never again believe him that we are ‘over half way’ or that the peak is ‘just at the top of this path’. LIES! TOTAL LIES!). He supplied me with sandwiches, snacks, drinks and sweets. I still wasn’t sure I was going to make it to the top, but somehow I did. The views were stunning! My legs were jelly. We came back down, miraculously in time to watch the evening World Cup match.

The next day, it pissed it down solidly for the entire morning. The mountain we’d climbed was hidden behind a huge, grey, unforgiving cloud. We explored some of the nearby towns, ducking into shops and cafes to keep out of the rain. In the afternoon, the rain cleared and the sun came out, so we walked down to the lake and wandered along the empty beaches. It was absolutely beautiful. I find water so calming and peaceful, but I always forget about it! I need to find a lake nearby and make it part of my week to walk around it.

We made it back to the B&B before the weather turned again. Again, we somehow managed to catch all four World Cup matches that were on that day…

By Sunday we were both feeling the effects of eating out for every single meal. Does anyone else get like that? So much rich, butter/sugar/salt-heavy foods, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. We were feeling stuffed and sensitive. I’ve never been on an all-inclusive holiday, but surely everyone must feel bloated and over-full after about day 3?!

Anyway, we checked out of the B&B and drove back along the winding roads, stopping for a quick break by one of the lakes. What I love about the Lake District in the off-season is how quiet the beaches are. We felt like we had the place to ourselves. The whole trip was beautiful. I felt so relaxed and calm.

Throughout this time, I had barely any signal and the wifi in the hotel didn’t work. So all I had to do was enjoy the beauty of the lakes and hills and ’embrace nature’.

And it made me realise something.

At home, I spend nearly all day, every day, thinking how ill and incompetent I am. I compound this on Twitter, where I talk about how shit I am at everything, and I read other people’s posts about how shit they are at everything, and I feel, overall, that everything is shit.

On holiday, I was still ill. Obviously. Anxiety and depression didn’t go away. But they weren’t my focus. I was busy with other things; walking, enjoying the beauty of everything around me, spending time with my boyfriend, eating too much delicious food. My illnesses were still there, but they felt less sharp. They felt bearable. It felt so good to be thinking about something else, doing something else.

Like when you have toothache. You have pain because it’s telling you something, it’s making you aware that there’s a problem. But sometimes, the more you think about the pain, the more painful it becomes, until it is unbearable. But if you can distract yourself, keep busy with something else, the pain becomes more tolerable and you can focus on getting the problem fixed.

Not sure if that makes sense. Hopefully you know what I mean…

The trouble with mental illness is that it makes you isolate yourself and withdraw, so that you have a lot of time on your hands in which to focus on how shit everything is. I’m still trying to understand how to not do this. But I think social media is an interesting place to start.

I owe a lot to social media – I have learnt a lot, opened up, shared a lot and made amazing friends. It has been an important part of my life and has been there for me when I felt that I had absolutely nothing else. I sometimes don’t know how I’d have survived without it.

But often, I am very negative, and I read a lot of things on there that are negative, and gradually it skews my perception of reality. I think it might be helpful for me to take regular social media breaks and talk to people outside social media, so I can get a more balanced view of myself and my life.

Has anyone else had a similar experience? What do you do to keep a balanced view of things? What do you think about the effects of social media? And do you think nature – going for walks through the trees, wandering around lakes, climbing mountains – helps? If so, why/how does it help?

Would love to hear from you! x

23rd May

I’m in the library. I have a great spot. I’m near a window, so I can watch the world go by. It’s really sunny, so everyone outside is wearing sunglasses and big smiles, and displaying their winter-pale shoulders and legs. I’m sitting on a comfy sofa in a corner, surrounded by shelves and shelves of books. The library is actually ‘bustling’, the first library I’ve seen bustling since the 90s. I love that people love it. It’s heaven.

Today, I have been productive. I have: called our energy company and set up an account, done some sorting out of what I fondly call my ‘treasures’ (i.e. bits of crap that I’ve collected over the years), tidied the kitchen, registered at the library (so I could use the wifi) and submitted a job application. And I’ve clocked in some hours for work, hopefully putting me back into my boss’s (boss’? Bosses? Whatever!) good books. It’s not even 3.30pm.

Yesterday, I didn’t get dressed until my boyfriend got home from work at 6pm. I slept for about 6 hours during the day, only ate two packets of crisps all day (one for breakfast, one for lunch), and didn’t drink anything at all. I often don’t feel like drinking any liquid, and then I get really dehydrated. I had things to do in town, but I didn’t want to leave the house without him there. I cried when he got home and I cried in the car, later, when we went to the supermarket together.

The day before that, I got up early, packed up my car with loads of boxes of stuff that somehow seems to have accumulated at my parent’s place since last weekend, drove an hour and a half to work, worked a full day, then drove two more hours to my new home.

These three days couldn’t have been more different, both in content and in emotion.

I have been struggling a lot, and my boyfriend doesn’t seem to understand. But then, looking at these three days, I guess this is why my boyfriend doesn’t understand; my days are different, my mood is different, and my needs are different, every single day. Maybe I need to make a flowchart:

If I’ve been at work for a full day, and I’ve done any other task, then I will be tired, emotional and bitchy. Treat with caution. Ask if I want a hug (and then give me one if I say yes). Let me wrap up in a blanket on the sofa. Don’t talk to me about tasks that I need to do, I will be too overwhelmed.

I have taken on board the suggestion to write stuff down when I’m upset and put it in a box, to be discussed later with my boyfriend, when I’m coping better. Haven’t started it yet, but have told him that’s what we’ll be doing! But a flowchart for each kind of day might help me understand myself a bit better too!

What have you guys done to help understand yourselves, or understand your partner, or help your partner understand you?

Hope you’re all well and are enjoying the sunshine 🙂

20th May

Feeling a bit down. Don’t know why. I’ve been on the verge of tears all day, for absolutely no reason at all.

I went to visit my grandma today and spent some time at a tremendously British local community event in her village. It was really sunny and warm, and we filled up on tea and cake and sandwiches. We walked around the little village, which comes complete with a parish church, ye olde pubs and a cricket ground, like every British village should. It was really quaint and lovely.

Came home and my brother cooked dinner for me. I made a sponge pudding for dessert.

I should be feeling pretty good about such a nice, pleasant, easy day. But I don’t.

It could be a touch of sunstroke, or dehydration, or tiredness, or anxiety about my job, or anxiety about my move, or fear that I’m not a good enough girlfriend / writer / employee / friend / daughter / mental health advocate etc. Or it could be poor diet (sandwiches, cake, and my bro’s cooking all means a distinct lack of fruit and vegetables). Or it could be low blood sugar (unlikely with the cake and sponge pudding), or it could be some sort of hormonal thing, or it could be depression reminding me that it’s still lingering around like a bad smell.

If only we humans came with a dashboard, like on a car, with warning lights that light up when things go wrong. And also an instruction manual to explain how to fix all the problems.

EDIT: I’m reading some other people’s blogs/posts/tweets about things they’re going through, and it’s so serious and intense and difficult and challenging. What I’m going through is nothing in comparison. I hate myself for being so trapped in my own head and my own worries, when so much more is going on outside. I can’t seem to turn my focus off myself. I’m sorry 😦

17th May

Lots has happened!

Firstly – I moved house! I did it! I didn’t look quite as happy as the lady in the pic above. But I’ve only cried once or twice each day, so I think that’s ok. My flat is really nice and I’m looking forward to getting to know my new home, Manchester.

I also had a job interview today! I don’t think I’ll get it, and even if I did get offered it, I’m not sure I’d take it. But it was definitely a great step for me – I felt absolutely fine, not nervous one bit. I was very cool, calm and collected. Although, I do worry that my complete lack of nerves might be a sign that my depression is returning, but I’m not going to think about that…

Because of moving house, I’ve been without internet for a few days. I’m absolutely gutted this coincided with Mental Health Awareness Week – I had so much I wanted to say! I guess I’ll just have to work hard at raising mental health awareness on the other 51 weeks of the year.

Also, let me say this, from my very privileged and first world position, life is HARD without the internet. I need to look for jobs – all online. I needed to do some work but I had to do it online. I wanted to connect with friends, fill out some forms for the letting agency, update my address on my driving licence, try to figure out how to use various instruction-less things in my new flat… How did people do stuff before the internet?!?!

Also, I wanted to ask about your thoughts on these blogger award things. I’m a bit… unsure what to think about them. I’ve been online a while and I’ve seen these blog awards and #ff on Twitter and other things like this. To me, it’s always felt like being at school, when people pick their favourites to play on their sports team. I was always one of the last people to be picked, because I was slow and uncoordinated and not part of the ‘cool gang’. I always felt like I was not good enough, not popular, not cool, not worthy. I still get that feeling every time I see a group of people nominating each other, for whatever. On one hand, I feel like I’m not good enough and not doing as much for mental health as other people are, so I get upset and worried about that. On the other hand, I think it’s always groups of friends nominating each other over and over again. Either way, I feel left-out and bad about myself.

So that’s why I’ve not got involved in blog awards or #ff so far. I don’t want to make other people how I feel or have felt. If that makes sense…

So what do you think? Am I being a bit selfish with my thoughts? Am I over-thinking everything?!

My first suicide attempt (part 2)

*TRIGGER WARNING*

If you need mental health support, please find useful numbers and contacts here.

If you need urgent support, try one of the numbers here, call the Samaritans on 116 123 or the NHS on 111.

This follows on from my other post, here.

**********

Telling my mum was weird. I didn’t know what to say. No one had trained me for this moment.

She was in the kitchen, drinking coffee. I walked in and blurted out: “Mum, I think I should tell you why I’m so ill”.

Her response: “Are you pregnant?” (Lol! Mums.)

“No, nothing as bad as under-age pregnancy. I just took all the pills in the medicine cabinet”.

I don’t really remember much about the next bit, but an ambulance was called. The paramedics came in and asked me some questions, then I was carted off. I remember that journey so well. I asked the paramedic about what it was like in that job, how he trained for it (I remember that he did badly in his school exams), what he enjoyed about it. I laughed and joked. It was like nothing had happened at all.

At the hospital, I also laughed and joked with the doctors and nurses. I spoke to a psychiatrist who came down and took some notes, but I basically said everything was fine.

Don’t really remember much after that, but I went home at some point. And that was that.

So… it doesn’t sound like it was that serious a suicide attempt?

You’re right – in terms of technique, I didn’t really do very well. I didn’t get my stomach pumped or have to stay in hospital for days or weeks. And to be honest, that is something I’ve struggled with a lot – I’m even a failure at suicide.

But my intention that day was absolutely clear.

Were there no warning signs at all?

On that day, no. But in general, yes, I guess there could have been warning signs, but I wouldn’t have recognised them. Mental health wasn’t really spoken about then. I was emo at school. I liked emo music. I wrote emo poetry. Sometimes I took alcohol into school just because I thought it was cool and wanted a bit of attention. I was the hot girl’s best friend. I wasn’t fat, but I was fatter. I wasn’t horrendously ugly but I was far from pretty. I wasn’t particularly clever or funny or sporty or musical. I was uncomfortable in myself and crap at everything. I wasn’t confident.

I’d tried self-harm, I’d tried controlling my eating. I had an unhealthy on-off relationship with a boy I was obsessed with but who didn’t seem to care about me. I often cut myself off from my friends because I thought they didn’t like me. I did a piece of art coursework that was a silhouette of me, curled up in the corner of a dark, bleeding room. It was pretty striking, although not very good from an artistic-talent perspective.

So I guess all of the above could have been warning signs, but it never felt like that to me. It just felt like what normal teenage girls do. I know a lot of my classmates did the same kinds of things, so I just accepted it. But we didn’t ever talk about it.

So what happened next?

I took two weeks off school, sat my school exams, did alright. I told my friends I’d had a virus that had kept me at home for that time – I never told them about the attempt.

I got a referral to a psychiatrist. The appointment was about 3 months later. I spoke truthfully at the beginning but then it got hard so I just lied and said I was fine. I then got referred to my local GP. I told her I was fine.

My family didn’t really speak about it. My brother didn’t ever find out. My mum did ask ‘so… are you ok now?’ a few weeks later. I just said yes and continued watching TV.

And that was the end of that. The whole episode was done with, never to be spoken of again.

Why are you writing about this now?

I want to explain that, even though I’d had suicidal thoughts before, my attempt at that moment, on that day, was completely out of the blue. I didn’t act differently and nothing triggering had happened. No one saw it coming. This is important for families, friends and colleagues who feel guilty or upset or angry over a suicide attempt (or actual suicide). Sometimes you can’t see it coming, so please don’t feel guilty.

And it’s also important for people who may suddenly become overcome by thoughts of suicide. If we don’t talk about it now, you won’t know what to do if that situation happens. If we talk about it openly, we can talk about where to go and what to do if we should ever feel like that. It’s important. If you do feel suicidal, please contact one of the numbers at the top of this page.

Sometimes people say that suicide is selfish, and I understand their point of view. But I want to explain that I didn’t ask for suicidal thoughts, they were put into my brain by a mental illness. I didn’t voluntarily choose for them to be there. And on that day, it just seemed like I had to do it. Like I was possessed by something. I literally didn’t even think of family or friends or how they might feel, my brain was stuck on only this thought: to commit suicide. There was no other option for me.

Although that day came out of the blue, there WERE however warning signs of my state of mind in general. If I’d had any kind of education or conversation, either with school or with family or friends, maybe things would have been different…

• If I had had any understanding of mental health, I might not have got to this point.
• If me and my friends and classmates had been taught how to talk openly about mental health, how to ask the right questions, how to support each other, I might not have got to this point.
• If I’d known that I could talk to someone and it could potentially help me (friends, family, school, a doctor), I might not have got to this point.
• If I’d understood how to look after my own mental wellbeing, I might not have got to this point.

And that, to me, is why we need to talk about mental health and suicide.

I’d love to hear your thoughts – if you agree with me or if you have other opinions? If you have your own stories to share?

Thanks for reading.

PS. I haven’t yet proofread this. Apologies for any errors!