For additional
clarification & a preface please read my previous post here.
I have been sitting on writing about this topic
of suicide and depression for over a month & the time has come for me to
speak up. I share my experiences so that others can learn what they will from
it: whether it’s the fact that they are not alone, that there’s help, that
there’s hope, or something else entirely. This is part of my “story”. I am not
my story, though I recognize that I am not my experiences either. Rather the
stories & experiences I share are what I have learned on a personal level.
Please do not judge yourself or others based on my experiences. Everyone is
different & there’s always a spectrum. We all do the best we can with what
we have. We need not compare them, yet we can have an increase of love,
compassion, and awareness and that will change your world from the inside out
because of them. I am fairly direct & there is the possibility that you may
be triggered by some of what I’m about to share.
I have a long line of
generational mental illness, trauma and abuse, addictions, and patterns of
codependency. At an early age I distinctly remember not wanting to be “here”
anymore: physically non-existent, emotionally detached and disconnected, numb.
One of my first instances
of going away & wanting to stay away was when I was 15 months old. I had
floaties on my arms that were not blown up yet. The story goes that I jumped
into the deep end of the swimming pool and I sank down to the bottom like a
little rock. The part I remember is laying on the ground with the lifeguard
over me. I was disconnected from my body & I was talking to someone in the
spiritual realm. I was told that I needed to go back because my
work wasn't done & I was annoyed that I would have to come
back to earth and be in my body and feel pain. When I came to I was yelled at
by my Grandmother for not listening or knowing the rules. Being
alive didn't seem so great with that reception.
At two years old I was
being sexually abused*. Further abuse happened with different people outside of
my home from the time I was 6 years old until I was 10. The abuse in those
years was fairly regular & was with multiple people of both genders, ages,
and in various settings and group sizing from 1 to 6 or so people. It was here
that I was exposed to huge amounts of pornography, self-abusing behaviors,
increasing the circle of abuse by including other children, and performed and
received sexual acts: that is what I was being taught. For a few years I kept
everything shoved inside. No one really knew what was going on, especially my
family. I was shy in public, but at home I was a motor mouth & seemed like
my usual self.
*Person is no longer living
Addiction and acting out
fully set in from the ages of 14 to 18. It was an old habit. Along the way I
had associated abuse of self & others as a way of expressing or communicating
what I thought love was. At 16 years old I hit rock bottom. I was very
depressed & slept erratically. Addictions were hidden quite well & I
felt like I was leading a double life. I had so much pain inside &
I didn't know what to do with it all. It was at the lowest point
of deep shame that I acted out more.
I felt horrible & sick
to my stomach. It was awful. Acting out is always a cry for help on some level
& no one else to my knowledge knew any of my secrets. I knew I needed
therapy & some kind of medical treatment. I didn't ask for any
because that would mean I would have to tell someone why I needed help &
I couldn't do that yet. I couldn't bear the
thought that I did that & that I had become an abuser. I wanted to do
everyone a favor and eliminate the potential threat I was to the world.
So, one day I was all alone
and I was sitting there eating an apple with a paring knife on the couch. I had
the knife to my forearm and was trying to muster up enough nerve to cut myself
already and get it over with. As the knife touched my skin I froze. It was a
voice from heaven speaking to me directly, a guardian angel I’m sure. It said,
“Emily. This isn't about you and killing yourself won’t solve your
problems. It won’t make it easier for anyone else. Your posterity is
depending on you to be here. They need you.” That phrase has come to mind many
times after that incidence. It changed my life.
This wasn't the
last time I seriously considered suicide. No, the struggle with it at times
still rages on.
All throughout my marriage
I had a lot of deep depression. I was barely functional and that was normal for
me then. I had children & looking back I now realize that I had
postpartum psychosis & that I should not have been left alone with my
children. I felt like an unfit mother and continued in numbness and
disconnection. It wasn't until a few years in that I realized how bad
I was. I sounded like a screaming banshee with my children. Many days I
would yell, cry, and scream sometimes to the point of breaking blood vessels. I
studied all the parenting books I could get my hands on, I read lots of
spiritually uplifting material, and I felt like I prayed & prayed to have a
change of heart and that I could somehow love my children. After months of
trying to treat myself & beating myself up for not being a natural at it I
finally sought help through a professional counselor for several months.
The initial diagnosis was
that of ADHD & I was in counseling & visiting my doctor regularly. I
got on medication & it seemed to help, but not enough. A year or two went
by and I did the best I could with what I had to work with.
I was depressed everyday
& again hardly functioning. My marriage was barely staying together. I was
disconnected & did not do a lot around the house. I went to work & came
home & expected my husband to do everything else. At that point waking up
& going through the motions was all I had to give &
it wasn't enough for my husband. He was tired of the 7 years
that I spent depressed & nothing looked like it was changing any time soon.
At that point I was feeling
a lot of things built up inside, more than what I could handle on my own. I
wanted to take some preventative measures so I put myself in group therapy
& back in individual counseling. My doctor & I discussed perhaps trying
a different set of medications. I found a lot that didn't work
(including one that made me really suicidal—showering
alone wasn't even safe. I had to leave the bathroom door unlocked
& take one while my husband was home) & finally found one that
worked well for me. Having that medication that worked was the first time in my
life that I felt genuinely happy simply because I existed. It was as if a fog
had cleared & I could see that I needed to change. Medication opened up so
many things for me because I could finally cope well enough to do the work of
getting through the crappy stuff to find the nuggets of gold in it all. I was
finally able to change for myself and for the better.
That’s when crap hit the fan in a really big way. My marriage was actually
falling apart more than I thought & my husband wanted a divorce. I was
crushed and my world was spinning. How could this happen after all this
work I've done? The things he complained about for 7 years were no
longer relevant because I had changed in an intense year & a half. I
thought something had to be wrong with me. Life as I knew it felt like it was
over. How could I move forward when I thought I was doing so well? Nothing made
sense anymore.
I cried myself to sleep a
lot, had panic attacks, and yes, suicide was consistently entertained as a way
out of all of it to end the suffering. Thankfully I had a huge support network
in place with family, friends, doctors, and counselors. Even with all the love
I had I still felt completely alone and like I was in a dark cave. I rarely
told people my deepest feelings of not wanting to exist.
I didn't want the speech. What I wanted and needed was someone
to genuinely listen to me & validate what I was feeling & not dismiss
it. I’m not one to seek outward attention in this format.
Medication helped with the
chemical imbalances, counseling helped significantly to equip me with tools to
cope, and yet after years of combined therapy, I still consistently wanted to
stop existing. We narrowed it down to calling it for what it was, “suicidal
thoughts, ideations, and tendencies.” I was able to get to the point of
awareness that if I attempted suicide I would most likely end up “failing”
because I knew I had work on the earth to complete. That knowledge did nothing
to change me wanting to stop existing.
I figured if I tried & failed, I would end up living worse off than where I
was. I honestly thought, “If I tried a car accident I would probably get
paralyzed & then what would I do? If I took pills I’d pass out & get my
stomach pumped & then have all these hospital bills. How would I pay for
that? If I cut myself, I’d probably bleed & need a blood transfusion, at least
then I’d get a break in the hospital for a little while. But how would I pay
for that if I survived?” I debated lying about being suicidal just to get
checked in. I was consumed and overwhelmed by daily demands of family and home.
I wanted out & I considered physically doing so. I knew I’d feel guilty if
I up & walked out on my children & leave everything behind, then I
really couldn't live with myself if I did do that. There was no
amount of “reasoning” that made life better for me. As practical of a
suicidal person I was, it scared me.
So, what changed for me?
Why am I still here today?
I kept up my support
network of multiple therapies which included changing some lifestyle habits.
Some of the biggest changes came when I faced my trapped inner demons. There
was a lot of trauma I still needed to work through & I knew I needed to
head in the direction of being able to help other people with their own demons.
My counselor mentioned a place called The Institute of Healing Arts in Lindon,
UT (IHA). It intrigued me. I went for a visit & got an appointment set up
for a session. That set in motion so many things. I found another type of
therapy filled with even more tools to help me work through the crap that
happened. This was the work of championing my inner child.
I spent a year working with my inner child & that of my fellow classmates
& clients. Each experience was healing on such a deep level. I started
seeing the dysfunctional patterns & beliefs I held about life: Life is
hard; we’re all going to die anyways, so why not be ready for when it happens;
I am being punished for being alive; life is painful; I was only born for my
body to be used, so I’m useless, & on and on it went.
The depression was prevalent during most of my time at IHA. I remember a fellow
student coming out of some of her depression. She mentioned that anger is
actually a higher state of functioning than shame. She said she had moved out
of a lot of the shame & was now working through a lot of the anger. I could
see the change in her. I wanted what she had. I knew that if she could have
that change of heart, then so could I, seeing her work through it gave me
courage and permission to live my truth in my own way.
There came a time when my
instructor kept telling me to pay attention to what I was saying & that my
words created my reality. Frequently what I was creating was a life of misery
& endless woe. (For more specific examples please see this post on
the power of our words.) No, I don’t blame Satan for planting
those thoughts & I don’t blame myself for thinking/feeling them. I do take
accountability for what I do have control over. I cannot control my brain
chemistry. I can manage it as best I can & do the best with what I have.
On one occasion was when I
was going through my second divorce (I married the same man twice & that’s
a completely different story), was forced to quit a job due to sexual
harassment, got fired from the next job for theft that I still have no idea how
I “committed”, and had a “friend” wake me up at 1:30 am to call me a liar &
threaten to report me to the licensing board. I was trying my best to get
through things one day at a time. I felt like I was treading water in a cave
with only a small air bubble to pull strength from. This was another really low
place in my life. I cried & cried & called another friend who came over
at 2 am to help me breathe and sort things out. She was my earthly angel that
night. She looked me in the eyes and told me that I wanted to live.
From that point on whenever
I begin obsessing over wanting to die I verbally /audibly tell myself with
fervor and resolve, “Emily, you want to live! I see you! I know you! You are needed
here right now!”
Suicidal thoughts for me
are really a signal & symptom to something much deeper happening at the
core. With the chemical imbalance mostly stable I realize that the rest is for
me to work on. I have come to the understanding that I don’t really want to
die. I now understand that what I’m really thinking and feeling is that
whatever experience I am facing it appears to be so overwhelming & I wish
I didn't have to deal with it anymore. It’s uncomfortable &
yet it is a feeling that eventually fades away.
Even with all my proactive work, I still struggle at times. The depression I
deal with now is less severe with the suicidal thoughts a lot less often. The
work did not “get rid of the problem”, but it has helped me to see it
differently. Problems aren't to get rid of; rather they are
opportunities to find ourselves through them. It can be a process of
refinement.
Please know that I actively work on wanting to live life & not just exist,
survive, or get through another day. Some days are better than others. I am
learning to practice what I feel living in a thriving and prosperous way means
to me.
When I have those down days
I check in with myself & usually a trusted support person. I look at
potential causes of the depression/suicide feelings I’m having. I see if there
are perhaps sleep & nutrition deficiencies (there usually are for me &
it’s one of my biggest contributing factors). I see if I need to work through
some old personal crap that’s unpleasant & that my old patterning wants me
to shove, ignore, numb, and hide deep inside filled with shame. I see if I need
to spend some time with nature. I see if I need time alone to process. I see if
I need time to socialize. I see if I need time to love, embrace, and nurture
myself. It has taken over 25 years for me to get to this point of awareness.
If you feel the inclination
to judge either yourself or someone else I suggest you stop right there. There
is no judgment for experiences. I do not see someone as the label of “suicidal”
because that is not at all who they are. They are a person who needs love and
understanding & to find out whom they really are and what they have to
offer. They need to see from their own eyes and heart the love they have for
themselves. When I learned to love myself I could then be free to live the way
I needed to.
Healing from such deep
wounds can take a lifetime to recover from. This is a daily process and a
practice for me. I wish I could say I’d never think another death thought again
or that I’ll never ever consider doing something to harm myself. That’s not
realistic for me. What I can say is that I promise to pay better attention to
my emotional, physical, spiritual, and mental needs so that I don’t dwell in
depression land longer than is necessary for my learning.
Suicide & depression
have taught me more about patience, trust, faith, healing, recovery, and the
need for each other, my desires to be more connected to myself and those around
me, and look at someone’s heart amid all the “darkness” and find the light
within them. I see light more easily because I have known the dark
of the night.
