Deadly elephant in the room.

Trying to recover from a mental illness with heavy suicidal ideation feels a bit like having a man with a gun sat next to you, having to ignore him constantly. Sometimes he just sits quietly, gun in his pocket. He might as well not be there because you are used to this presence.

Tonight it feels like he has his hand on the trigger and the gun pushed against my head, but the only thing I can do to not die is carry on with my life, try and distract myself from the threat, try not to think about it. It is an impossible thing not to think about yet still I have to stay calm and pretend it doesn’t feel like I will be dead by morning.

It is nice when people ask how I’m doing, I mean really ask, as if they care rather than out of politeness, because when there is a man with a gun to your head it feels good to have a friend care. It is a bit like the elephant in the room to me, but it’s the man with a gun instead, and if everyone ignores him then it is hard for me to ignore him because he demands attention. If other people mention him then they give me an outlet and I can use up my mental capacity on a thought other than how close his finger is to the trigger.

I used to be scared all the time, and nowadays I am scared 40% of the time not 100%, which is great. But when I am scared it is no less terrifying, and in some ways the danger is no less present. I am doing better, I can see that, but in the moments where suicide is breathing down my neck, he is as close as he has ever been and the rope still feels like it’s by my fingertips.

I hope one day I can live a life where I get through entire days without the man putting his finger on the trigger and the gun to my head. I have come so far, but I still have a long way to go until I feel safe from the risk.

Improvement.

Recovery is strangely difficult to see sometimes. We are all aiming for perfect; physically, mentally, socially, and sometimes I think we forget that recovery doesn’t mean becoming perfect, it means becoming who we are meant to be without the disorder. It means becoming safe and a bit more capable. It means being less ill.

At the beginning of this year I was incredibly unwell, mentally. There was a period of time where I tried to take my own life multiple times per week. There was one 48 hour slot where I overdosed, was hospitalised, tried to throw myself off a cliff, self-harmed, tried to suffocate myself, physically beat myself up, and tried to knock myself out. Now it is strange to think back to that; it was a time where I actually wasn’t okay 100% of the time. Every minute of every day was unbearable and impossible, and I legitimately wasn’t myself for a long time. Between January and April I was barely recognisable to myself, when I look back at things I wrote back then in notes and emails to myself they don’t even make complete sense. I could structure a sentence but everything I was saying was based on twisted and disillusioned thoughts rather than my reality. I lost myself at the beginning of this year.

I am not saying I am better, I am aware that I am far from it. But today, looking back at the last 3 months, I am more myself than I was at the beginning of this year. I have tried to take my own life twice in 3 months, only one of them ended in hospital, the other ended with the police. I have self-harmed but only for one awful 48 hour period, and not before or since. In three months. That, actually, for me, is fairly incredible. I am proud to say that I have tried to take my own life twice in 3 months because that is far fewer times than it once was in 24 hours. It’s not perfect, but I am not aiming for perfect, I am aiming for a bit of stability. One day I will be able to write a post about how I haven’t tried to take my own life for three months, then years, perhaps one day 3 decades. And it is amazing that I believe that one day I will be able to write that, because 8 months ago I truly didn’t believe I was capable of any sort of future.

Well today I am here, I am safe, I am loved and cared for, and I am capable of having a future. In my own little way in my own little world, that is a massive step towards recovery.