September 18, 2024
Trigger warning as well a long read warning. It’s not a fun topic. It’s not something people like to talk about. But September is suicide prevention month.
A lot of times people don’t want to talk about their problems with others. They don’t want to be a burden or add to their family or friend’s problems. Some even consider it ‘attention seeking’ or using it as an ‘excuse’ for certain behaviors.
And those that don’t know these types of intrusive thoughts often offer simple advice such as ‘oh, things will get better; it will be okay’.
Depression has this way of distorting reality. Especially for those like myself that struggle with OCD. I have had OCD since a child. And dealt with suicidal ideation in coordination due to OCD coupled with depression. The mind is powerful. You don’t want to have these thoughts nor act on them. You start to fear your own mind and spiral. I’ve had many times I will be driving on an overpass and my brain tells me ‘well what if you just drove off’. Unwanted thoughts. Completely unprovoked.
Alcohol made this occur more often and more intensely. The last night I drank, it’s almost like I had been over taken by someone that wasn’t myself. I was emptying the dishes. I had this overwhelming feeling when I grabbed a steak knife to put it away. One I will never forget.
I had never/have never self harmed. I was in such a moment of desperation for hope. Full blown hysterics ensued. I remember going to Isaac while he was trying to put Cooper down for bed with the knife. Him calling my parents. That was the last night I ever touched alcohol. And why I more than likely will never touch it again. It’s hard to understand if you haven’t lived it. The next day we went and met with our pastor, who has become such a vital person in our life, and I knew things had to change. Not only for my husband, kids, family, friends. But quite frankly for myself to have the will to want to live.
I still struggle with these feelings. The joys of mental health, sigh. But the alcohol that would often let these thoughts out of suppression is no more. I took control of something. Which, with OCD, is everything. Control. This is not a ‘poor me’ or ‘feel bad for me’; this is simply me writing out my feelings. As I’ve said before, social media for me is not only about the Amazon finds and recipes, but a personal diary. Where I can share with others what they might be too scared to share themselves.
Simply put, please, if you ever have these feelings. Call someone. A friend, a family member, suicide prevention hotline, the police department. Whatever you need to do. Everyone has their purpose here on Earth. At 33, I’m still searching. And that’s ok.
That’s all.