Have the Conversation
When I was feeling suicidal, I thought I had to leave this world to escape unfathomable pain.
I know now that my brain was not working properly.
Today, I’m happy to be alive, and I’m grateful for every day I have.
But back in 2015, I didn’t feel that way.
I felt disconnected from disconnections even.
I felt hopelessly lost.
People who are in pain don’t wake up in the morning and say, “I’m going to ruin someone’s day. I’m going to cancel all my plans and let everyone down.”
If someone is in a state where they don’t want to live anymore, their brain is focused on their survival. It truly is survival mode. Or so it seems to the person living through it.
In 2015, I felt like a burden. I couldn’t remember conversations that happened five minutes prior. My brain felt like a slow burn that was engulfing me bit by bit.
I didn’t see a way out, and I desperately wanted help.
I only ever got that help when I asked my girlfriend-now-wife to go with me to the emergency room.
That decision saved my life.
All other parts of the system–doctors, psychiatrists, therapists–had failed me.
I had to go to the extreme to beat back the extreme that my brain had put me in.
And I think it could have been staved off, or at least progress could have been made sooner, if someone talked to me honestly and openly about suicide.