Dying to Live
World Suicide Prevention Day 2017

It was the early morning of an icy cold January, 2017. My whole life had fallen apart. I weighed just four stone, I was no longer allowed attend school, I was regularly collapsing, my body was shutting down, my doctor ceased to continue seeing me as I refused admittance to a general hospital and she could no longer safely take care of me, my family received a phone call earlier that day notifying them that I would be rushed into hospital in Dublin, for the second time, the minute I turned 18. To me, those things were nothing compared to the fact that chicken vol au vents were for dinner that evening. I sat at the table with tears streaming down my face, screaming that I would stab myself with the bread knife if someone didn't take the 'disgusting poison' away from my plate. I managed to extract a baby mushroom as my dinner, safely scraping off any luring remnants of cream sauce. I shook in horror while staring out my window onto the deserted 3 am street, freaking out because google had failed to supply me with the exact calorific content of the little vegetable. I had gone for two runs already that day but I felt compelled to go for another for fear I had inhaled any cooking fumes which I believed would have made me fatter. I was exhausted, I was terrified, I was alone, I had no more friends, I had no relationship with my family,  I was completely depressed, I couldn't sleep with the pains in my stomach and the aches in my heart, I was absolutely tortured by a never ending monster in my mind. I spent all my days baking exquisite cakes for others, watching reruns of Master Chef, searching through recipe books and researching calorie contents of foods I would never eat. All I thought about was food, weight, numbers, size, calories, shape, fat, mirrors, exercise and weighing 0 pounds.

I wanted to die. I saw it as my only escape; when in reality, I just wanted to be saved.

I crept back into bed, leaving the windows open so the cold air would help me burn more energy. I took out my old journal and fell upon a page that I had written years previously. I studied it like an outsider, a fly on the wall; without judgement and preconceived notions. What I saw changed me. The notion that I could ever be happy, healthy and free from so much fear seemed so unattainable yet here was hand written evidence that I was once all of those things, which to me meant that I could be once  again. That page became the catalyst of which ignited the tiniest spark of hope within me.

'Suicide doesn't end the chance of life getting worse. It eliminates the possibility of life getting any better.' 

That night I no longer wanted to exist. The brain, an organ, just like the heart was in so much pain, its hurt so great, so powerful that it saw death as its only escape. Suicide in a way would have saved me that night. I wouldn't have had to worry about where I would hide my food the next day, how I could sneak out for exercise in the rain, why I felt so terrified and lonely in a world surrounded by others who have at one stage or another felt in as much pain as me. However, suicide that night also would have ended me. My dreams, my hopes, my future transformed from exciting possibilities to sheer memories. There would have been no going back, no do-over, no reset button. That may seem so appealing, finally an end; but it's not. The pain won't end when you die, just like energy can not be created nor destroyed, pain can only be transformed from one form into another. Your pain will pass on. You may think nobody cares, that everyone would be better off without you, that there is no other option, that this is your only way of escape; it in't. If you are struggling, please please please believe me when I say that life gets better. I once felt like you may feel, at times I sometimes still do but I am falling in love with life again and so will you!

We are not here living to die, we are here and we are dying to live!

'Place your hand over your heart, can you feel it? That is called purpose. You’re alive for a reason so don’t ever give up.'

I never ever thought that I could ever be happy or live a life not so controlled by food and weight, but I once did and I hope that someday soon I will again. I still have a way to go but I am healing! I am the happiest I have ever been. If someone had told me that night that I would be able to engage in conversations, laugh at jokes, look in the mirror without crying, walk up the stairs without fainting, go out and get drunk with my friends, sit down with my family to eat a meal and begin travelling again, I would have laughed at the sheer impossibility of it all. But guess what? All of those things have happened since then! And now I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel that once seemed so definitively dark and desolate. 

Please reach out for help. You do not deserve this pain and your suffering should not be in silence. It's ok not to be ok but it is absolutely NOT ok to do nothing about it. As a species, us humans are not doing too ok and that is ok! If we were we wouldn't have overflowing psychiatric hospitals, countless therapy centres and numerous mental health campaigns. Your feelings are valid but that doesn't mean they are true and deserving of inflicting pain. If you or anyone you know is in pain, scared, suffering, lonely, sad, angry, addicted or hurting please please please do not suffer in silence. Reach out for help, talk to someone. 

Click here for a list of various numbers, emails and websites which you can reach out to for help, advice or comfort.

Don't know what to say? Click here to learn about how you can help others through their pain.