Suicide.

So let’s talk about Suicide. It’s one of those subjects where people often fall in one of three camps: those who have experienced it, those who kinda understand it, and those who really really don’t.

But you know what? It’s okay to not understand it; to not know what it feels like to think you’d be better off dead; to think that the world would be better off without you; to be so fed up of the pain inside that you would do anything, ANYTHING, to make it stop. Or to not know what it’s like to live day after day with thoughts and urges to harm yourself that you don’t want or understand. If you don’t understand it, count yourself as blessed.But don’t be naive to think it might never happen to you.

I doubt anyone spends life thinking that their physical health will remain top notch forever. We exercise and we drink water and we eat 5-a-day in order to keep our bodies healthy. And yet, accidents can happen and illnesses can occur where we need to see a doctor unexpectedly. Well, the same is true of our mental health. One day, something might happen that knocks us for six and rather than hide it or be made to feel ashamed, we need to be honest and open and seek help from professionals.

Personally, I never expected to spend so much time in hospital this year. I never expected to need to see so many mental health professionals, or to be diagnosed with an illness that I’ve probably had and been mistreated for since I was a teenager. But it happened. And I’ve discovered new strengths and depths to myself that I was never aware of.

So on this, World Suicide Prevention Day, it’s okay to need help. It’s okay if you don’t understand suicide. It’s okay if you’ve never considered it. It’s okay if you think about it every day. But wherever you are with your mental health - be kind to yourself. Seek help when you need it. Dig deep and discover your inner warrior. Talk to friends if it helps. Sit on a hill and watch the sky change blue to pink. Feel the wind on your face. Sleep the afternoon away. Play with your kids, or your friends kids. Do whatever you need to do to get through today. Because tomorrow needs you.

Letter of Hope.

Dear friend,

There will come a time in your life, that no matter how much careful planning you try to do, no matter how many friends you invite out, no matter how many professionals have your name on file, you will find yourself alone. And there will be others you can call. But you won’t, for fear of worrying them. So you will keep the sadness locked up inside. And it will make you feel horribly and desperately alone. And the unanswered texts and messages will make you feel abandoned and empty. And you’ll be left wondering if everyone is really busy or if they just didn’t want to see you. So you will spend some time sobbing your heart out on a beautiful hill, wondering what happened to make life come to this.

And it is at that moment, little one, when you know that you cannot rely on anybody else in this world, that you will have to make the choice between hope and despair. Between life and death, the future, or the past. And I hope, that when that moment comes, you will find a reason to live for the tomorrows. A reason to hold onto life when all you feel is pain. A reason to keep making those tiny steps forward. Because no matter how dark the world gets when the sun retreats, there will be a tomorrow. And tomorrow needs you.

You can make it. You can hold on. Because you are not the first person to feel this sorrow. And you will not be the last. So when that time comes, when your heart is torn and the walls are crumbling, and you don’t know how you can go on: hold on. Hold on in the darkness, hold on through the pain, hold on with the knowledge that one day, you can be the one that someone else needs. The friend that didn’t give up. The one that wasn’t too busy. The light in the darkness. You can be strong dear friend, you have already survived so much.

Honesty.

Honesty. How much is too much? I’ve been thinking about this so much recently, because often when I’m in a bad place, people will ask me a question and want me to “be honest with them” about how I’m feeling, but it doesn’t always end up being the best thing for me. So I hold back the whole truth, and I give a generic overview; the tip of the iceberg, if you will. Not sure if it’s my BPD, INJF-ness or my autistic traits but I just really struggle with generic questions like, ‘how are you?’. My brain won’t compute an answer in the socially accepted time-frame within which to answer so I say, “fine” or “yeah I’m okay.” If you want to know something direct you’re much better off asking me a direct question.

It’s certainly no secret that since getting out of hospital I have been really struggling, wishing things could be different, wishing I could somehow understand the mess my head is in. I cry at the smallest things. I cry at the big things. I feel alone and yet I’m surrounded. I feel overwhelmed and empty and every day I just hope and pray that something might suddenly just click into place; that I might begin to feel a little bit more normal.

I know I need to give myself time, to rest and recover, to give therapy a chance, to hold on to hope and love and peace that might one day drop back into my life. But it’s hard. It’s so hard.

So I just wanted to say thank you. So many of you have encouraged me and been praying for me and have been ever so patient when I just haven’t been able to do the things I normally would have. Maybe you were one of those people who asked how I was and didn’t feel like you got the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I’m sorry.

And I’m so thankful for this Insta feed. Morgan Harper Nichols posts speak so loudly to me. I read them all the time to remind myself to let grace abound and to let myself breathe. To trust that the light will break through the darkness and grace pours in day after day. Because honesty, though it might not be perfect, it is a beautiful thing.

Dying

N.B. I have not mentioned certain details in this post in order to try to respect the grief and lives of those affected by that awful tragedy.

On the 29th March 2000, I learned about death in a way that has affected me for the rest of my life. Before this moment, death was something that happened to old people, or old animals, or perhaps to people in other countries who didn't have a lot to eat. For a long time after that, it was a daily phantom that followed me around.

I guess before I talk about who I became, I must introduce you to who I was. Aged 10 years, and 363 days, I was a tomboyish kind of kid. Growing up in between two brothers does that sometimes. I loved climbing trees, reading books, finding places to hide: anything that kept me out of the spotlight. I was the kind of girl who played football, dug up mud in the playground, sharpened sticks to use as 'weapons', built tree houses and for the most part, hated being treated 'like a girl'. I was average build, athletic, ambitious and tough as nails. I gave as good as I got in my regular fights with boys and many of the girls didn't really give me the time of day. I didn't really have friends in Junior school, so I spent a lot of time alone. The school toilets were my refuge at lunchtime and the small cubby hole in the cloakroom was my safety net when I felt threatened during lessons. 

I wasn't naive. I had already; by this point; spent a disproportionate amount of time in my short 10 years in hospitals for appointments, operations and treatments to get rid of my birthmark that could increase my risk of skin cancer astronomically if left to grow. (I found this out later. At the time I just thought it was because it made me different to others and being different was a bad thing.) But despite all this, I was bright, hopeful, resourceful, and despite pretty much hating school because of the bullying, got on well in class and most of the time, kept out of trouble.

Perhaps it was because I felt like an outcast, but I had an overwhelming desire to help, to impress, and to appear useful in the blind hope that my spirit would override the apparent physical flaws that attracted the attention of some people. I didn't like people looking at me, but if they were going to, I preferred it to be because I was doing something of worth. I spent my life "sucking up" to the teachers and adults, and became Library Monitor, PE Cupboard tidy-er, anything to stay off the playground really.

Then, one horrible day just before my 11th birthday, a fire in a flat overnight claimed the lives of three beautiful boys who were pupils/ex pupils of my school. Two of the siblings, although suffering varying degrees of fire-related injuries, survived, (and eventually returned to school.)

Suddenly, death was on the doorstep of our school, our community and our lives. As young children, we were forced to face a horrible and unexplainable tragedy. Nothing that we were feeling could compare to the family of these boys, and I was all too aware that there were those who had known the family far better and far longer than I had. But none of us could escape the sadness that presented itself with us every day that they no longer joined us at the school. Each of us had to enter that playground on that dreadful Monday morning, and feel the weight of the sadness and silence that had smothered the usual pre-school playground atmosphere.

I don't remember much of the assemblies. I don't remember much of what went on during classes after that. I know some were offered counselling, but I wasn't worthy to waste the time of those people when others needed it more than me. I was only at the school a short while longer before I went off to Senior school, but it was a period of time that engrained its negativity into my mind, and changed me in a way I would never be able to explain.

Not long after, just that summer, I experienced my first family death when my Granddad died. But the tears I shed then were partly for my family, and partly out of fear, once again, that death was ever present on my doorstep.

A few years later I remember suffering from terrible, terrible nightmares, some about 'Death' coming to get me, (at the time it was just 'him') and about falling, fire, burning, and other equally terrifying thoughts for a 12 year old. Nightmares and bullying became part of my life, and soon after, self-harm followed to cope with everything that was rushing around my mind and spirit as I struggled with becoming a teenager, and dealing with un-spoken emotions, some of which I would not reveal until many many years later in my life.

Looking back on that time of my life, it is still extremely hard to piece together the ways that it changed me. I know that deep inside, that fear of death has tainted a bit of my soul. I know that there is no way that I will ever be able to erase the dreaded feeling that creeps in through my toes and up to my throat until it chokes me of air, paralysing me and I can do nothing but lay, helplessly on the floor until it subsides. It is a feeling that I have experienced during the most emotional moments of my life, when I felt like my world was once again falling apart. The feeling that I sought to escape every time I reached for a razor blade. The feeling I first got when I realised that death... happens. To young people. To old people. To everyone.

Fifteen years on, from that tragic day, and that time in my life is still extremely hard to talk about. For many years I had an emotional barrier between me and others: I wore a mask and I did not share my innermost thoughts and feelings with anyone. I kept most people away from my heart and kept my "public" face on when with others. But over time, some late-night heart to hearts and hugs from carefully places 'angels' hidden amongst my friends, that has now disappeared almost entirely. Tears, nowadays, seem incredibly close to the surface.

Death, of any kind, makes me feel helpless, weak and ready to cry myself to sleep once again. Funerals of people I have never met are just as emotional as the ones of elderly relatives and friends. The broadcast funerals of TV Characters who aren't even real bring my to real and uncontrollable tears. I cannot bear to see others upset, and crying friends just make me cry. And I cannot help but think that my life, in all the ways it has been affected, has been dictated by that first, unbelievably sad and terrible accident that took three beautiful boys from the lives of those around them. I mean, how can anyone get over something so devastating?

But, time is a great healer, and there is hope for a brighter future. We move on, but we will never be the same. I know that I am not. I know that the lives of those who were left behind reflect the love that they had for those boys. I know they would have been proud of the way their family have kept them alive in their hearts and spirits.  I hope they always knew how much they were loved.  So R.I.P. boys, rest in peace.

Positive

N.B. It's going to be a long one. Sorry. x

So my Lent resolution this year was to take up having a positive attitude. When I thought of it, I knew that it was going to be a challenge, as I know there is a part of me that always fears the worst. Blame it on things that have happened in the past, or whatever, but I know I don't enjoy being a pessimistic person. I actually want more than anything to enjoy the life that I have in each moment, because I know anything could happen tomorrow or the day after next that could take that all away.

So I've used every ounce of energy in my body to have a positive attitude to the way things are turning around me. At times, that's actually been really hard, and maybe it's highlighted; for me especially; the area's of my life in which I really do tend to worry and stress about things that I should give over to God's hands.

During the worship session at Training this week, Lukey D (who was running it) encouraged us all to write down the things that we were worrying or stressing about, and then at the end of the session we were going to rip up our pieces of paper, drop them into the middle of the circle, and dance around them... (ok, we were just going to pray over them) At first, (being in my positive mood) I could hardly think of any. But then, as I began to think long-term about what I wanted to get out of this week, this month and beyond, I realised that there more things I was worrying about subconsciously than I realised.

So, basically, I'm going to lay myself bare and write up here as many things as I can remember, because I think for some of them, I'm going to need as much prayer as I can get. So if you could remember a few of these in your prayers this week/month, I would really appreciate it. I'm still looking positively to the year ahead, though with slight anticipation, but I am ultimately trusting that God has it sorted.

Being Confident: for as long as I can remember, I have struggled with talking in front of audiences, or even when people are looking at me in a certain way. I have mentioned this many times before, because actually, it is something that really affects the conversations I have in my day to day life, and I am trying not to let it affect the conversations I have with my young people on a one-to-one basis. One major issue is coming up, as I have to give an assembly (albeit to 5-7 year olds) at a school on Tuesday. I am actually terrified beyond comparison.

Accepting Myself: sometimes I have a hard time accepting that people like me. Maybe its just a teenager thing. I don't know. Most of the time, I'm fine being who I am. But occassionally the self doubt kicks in and I give everyone a hard time for being nice to me.

Adjusting To Changes: I'm not scared of change anymore. But sometimes I have a hard time adjusting to it. Quite a few things have changed for me recently. Its made me evaluate and re-evaluate things. I'm still struggling to see where I fit in, where I need to change, where I need to adjust, and give way. I'm struggling to find my place in certain groups, find my role in certain situations, and find when I can just be me.

Letting Go: I'm sure there are situations in your life that you've had to cope with. And months/years down the line, you finally think that you've sorted yourself out and that you are actually ok with everything. But then something happens, and you realise that maybe you weren't as over it as you thought you were. Yeah. Thats me.

Fear: I've admitted this quite a few times this year, but I have an unexplainable paranoia that I am going to die. I think about it nearly all the time, walking down the street I think that every car is going to have a drive-by shooter in it, when in a car I worry there will be a driver not paying attention that will crash into us, going to bed I think I may not wake up, you get the picture. I constantly see things around me that could cause my demise, and it's actually beginning to freak me out. I can't remember when it started, but I know that it's serious.

Next Year: Yeah. I'm unsure of where I will be. I made my mind up, and then I changed it, and now I am just confused. Some guidance would be appreciated, preferably by God.

Good Leader: Linked in to the worrying about who I am, the thing I fret the most about in this job is whether I am being a good role model to the children and young people I work with. Sometimes I really worry that some of them idolise me too much, because I know that it's easy to do, and absolutely devastating when you finally have to realise that your idols are human, and just like everyone else, they make mistakes. I want the best for my young people, but most of the time, telling them what kind of life they should be living isn't enough; they've got to see me living it first.

Sacrifice Of This Year: Sometimes I don't feel like some of my friends appreciate the sacrifice I made for this year. I knew it was going to be hard, living away from home, not being around a vast amount of people my age, not being able to take vast amounts of time off at holidays and the such. When I signed up for this year, I did it because I wanted to give some time back to God, to give him a chance to develop me into the person that I was supposed to be. But I think for a lot of my friends back home, they don't understand that, and still expect me to be able to take time off to meet their needs. Don't get me wrong, I take every opportunity I can to catch up with friends and check they are doing ok. I send cards, texts, emails, myspace messages, facebook messages, I do everything I can to ensure my contact with them is not lost. But sometimes I really feel like it's a one way street with some of them. And I'm running out of energy to keep it up. Which brings me to my last one.

Tiredness: To be perfectly honest, I'm zonked. New circumstances mean a bit more travelling than usual, and it wears me out. The days are long, I'm dreaming a lot which means I'm not sleeping well, and I'm just running out of energy for everything. But I don't think it's a matter of getting more sleep, I need the energy that only the Lord can give.

That's me, and all the shadows that are lurking in my mind. Now I'm off to my sister's to spend some quality time with her and her fiancé. Should be good. If you managed to read (and pray) for all that then thanks.

God bless. Take care. x