TW // suicide, bad mental healthÂ
Do you know how people always say that you have to reach the bottom before starting to recover? How they say that there is always hope? Well, I have never believed a single word of that. I have always thought that if you do reach the bottom, there is nothing left to do for you. Nothing left to save. It is over when you begin to feel at home in the numbness and pain that follows you everywhere, no matter how hard you try to run away from it. Â
Luckily, I have been proven wrong. Â
My memories about last May are blurred. It was quite a tough time for me; I was overwhelmed by uni assignments, starting a new job after lockdown and changes in my personal life that I will not disclose here unless you got some hours free to read the article.Â
However, I do remember one day very clearly. The night before, I went out with some friends to get some good food and a couple of cocktails. It was the first time in weeks that I genuinely laughed. When I got home that night, reality hit me. And it hit hard. Bad thoughts started to run through my head again, and I cried for hours until I was so exhausted I finally fell asleep. But, when I woke up the following day, everything was still there. All my problems, traumas, and unhealthy ways to cope were looking at me straight into my eyes, asking me to end it all. To be brave, for once. I tried to get up without success; I was feeling extremely tired and heavy. It was the longest day of my life. Then, I decided. I will not expand on how or why I chose to do it; all I can say is that my emotions were controlling me, and it seemed my only way of escaping pain or escaping the miserable life I made myself believe in having. My flatmate found me crying on my bed. Later he told me that I kept repeating “I want to stop suffering, that’s enough, that’s enough”, and I do not even remember it.Â
It has been four months now. Four months since I thought my life was not worth living anymore. A week after that episode, I took a plane and went home to Italy. Two weeks later, after talking to my friends and family, I found the courage to ask for help. Therapy became the shred of hope that I needed to go on. And I stuck to that lifeline tooth and nail, finding reasons to continue living week after week, session after session. I am learning countless lessons during my journey, but there is a particular one I want to share with you: it is never too late. It is never too late to change plans for Friday if you do not feel like partying anymore. It is never too late to change your degree, to leave your job, to start looking for love or to go volunteering in another country. It is never too late to start living the life you want, and deserve, to live. Start seeking joy and beauty in the little things during the day. Gratitude can be your best friend. Journaling or meditating, reading or exercising or whatever makes you feel good can have a stronger impact on your life than you believe. And I know it is hard sometimes, I know. But I promise you, it is incredibly worthy. So, please, allow yourself to live. Â
We have so many beautiful sunsets yet to see.Â
If you need help, please get in touch now.Â
NHS mental health Hub: 111Â
Samaritans Helpline: 116 123Â
YoungMinds Crisis Messenger: test YM to 85258Â