I have never written or talked about my suicide story until this year (2018). I didn’t even talk to myself about it. I chose to forget, much easier that way.
I was due to appear on the Radio City Talk, Mental Health Marathon on 15th January, which was a 24 hour show all about mental health, broadcast live on “the most depressing day of the year, Blue Monday”. Hosted by Mick Coyle and Jake Mills the show started at 9am and I was due on at 9pm-10pm. This gave me lots of time to listen during the day. Now, I’m not sure what happened but whilst listening I had urges to talk about my suicide story when I appeared on the show. To be honest I’d blocked it out that much I wasn’t even sure it happened. As it turned out my slot on the show was cut short and we didn’t talk much about my mental health, mainly because I strategically took a friend with me to talk about his mental health instead, genius!
On the way home I felt I still wanted to share, so I called my wife and told her. I’m not sure what I expected to hear from her on the phone, but she didn’t seem that bothered. Instead she just said, “you didn’t do it, you’re here now, I love you”. I can’t ask for more than that really can I? What a legend she is.
People say that suicide is selfish, I disagree. I think that in most suicide cases the person suffering is only thinking about everyone else. That their family and friends would be better off without them being alive. I have recently had episodes of depression where I’ve had suicidal thoughts and all I focussed on was my family. That my wife could do better than me and that my kids would be better without me and my depression. Fortunately, with these recent episodes I didn’t plan anything, they were simply thoughts.
However, my attempt at suicide in my early 20s was completely selfish. Suffering with depression, anxiety and insomnia I was simply fed up of life. I didn’t want life to continue. Life was scary, and death was the answer. I was entirely uneducated on depression, anxiety and insomnia. How is a person supposed to understand how to deal with something they don’t understand in the first place?
I was working in Scotland at the time and I had been there for about 3 nights staying in a standard Premier Inn Hotel. I used to like staying in Premier Inns because the room layout was similar in most hotel locations making me feel at ease with my surroundings. I can’t remember what triggered it, but I’d simply had enough and decided that suicide was my way out. I wasn’t scared! Instead I was eager to get it over with so I could ease all my pains and release the demons inside of me. I didn’t have any support at the time, I lived alone, my family was distant, and I had no love life. My family being distant was probably my fault, I had issues with them that I didn’t understand so I pushed them away. Only now in my 30s after years of therapy have I uncovered what these issues are.
Now I love a bath, so without being graphic I had chosen the bath route as my final destination. I had purchased my implements on a lunch break and after work off I went to end it all. I returned to my hotel room and I started having a panic attack. I was determined to see this through, so I entered the bathroom to run the bath.
The same bathroom in the hotel I had been staying in for 3 nights. In the same Premier Inn I always stay at. And it was at this point I realised I hadn’t been staying in the Premier Inn, it was fully booked. I had been staying in the Holiday Inn, for 3 nights. And I hadn’t noticed it didn’t have a f***ing bath!
Everything stopped, slow motion like in the movies. Weight seemed to lift off my shoulders and I remember smiling. I passed out hitting my head on something, maybe the sink. Oh yeah, the bathroom had one of them but no f***ing bath!!!! How convenient! I mean who actually has showers these days?
I woke up on the floor, blood everywhere. For a split second I thought I had done it, that I was somewhere else. I needed help. I managed to get to the phone and called reception, I lay on the floor and waited for them. They got into the room and called an ambulance.
When I was in the hospital I looked at all the injured Scottish people around me, most of them had been fighting each other, bloody idiots! And there was me fighting myself, bigger idiot. I casually told the doctor I had slipped and fell, he glued me back together. I told work I had been ill and fainted. I told myself to never tell anyone about this story.
I can look back and laugh about this now. But let’s not let someone close to us get to this stage, if your friend/loved one starts acting strange, be there for them. You’ll be surprised how much it can help them to know someone is there.