Another perspective

Sometimes hearing the other side can change how you see the same event. This is especially true when that event is a very black and deep hole that is consuming you, where your world has contracted down to finding a way to escape that hole, no matter how drastic that way might be.

I follow some advocacy groups for suicide prevention and The Black Dog Institute on Twitter and this link was posted today.

At the time, you can not see what your actions do to other people. No matter how many times people tell you they love you, care about you, want to help you, it just rolls off your back with the thought “They don’t really mean that. They are just saying that.” You are so sure that everyone can see the waste of space you believe you are and their words are just social politeness. I believed everyone would be better off without me, that their lives would go on without me. I never considered their perspectives, how what I had done would affect them.

I still carry physical and emotional scars from that period of my life. I see the scar on my arm everyday. I’ve been in mental institutions that reminded me of scenes from Cosi. I’ve lived through bipolar wrecking havoc on my marriage. If I am truly honest, the worst memory is of my Dad holding me while the ambulance came after my second overdose. Of him telling me to hold on, stay awake. Of my Dad not leaving my side for hours while they pumped me with charcoal and hooked me up to heart monitors for fear the drugs had damaged my heart.

Depression, bipolar and suicide are insidious and heartbreaking for everyone. I never want to go back to that dark place and I’m doing everything I know how to do to make sure that I don’t.

Hug your family. Love the people who love you. Take care of those hurting and suffering. Sometimes you really can’t make it on our own.


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