So my last post was all about relapsing, so I guess world suicide prevention day came at an apt time. I want to talk today about suicide, and suicidal thoughts. I've written a post about feeling suicidal before which you can catch up on here, but today I want to come back to the topic

Feeling suicidal is so much more than the want to die, sometimes, yeah that's all I can feel, is this overwhelming sense of "I just don't want to be here", but others it's so much more.

It's feeling like you can't be helped anymore, no therapy, no talking, nothing can help this depression, this sense of worthlessness. It's feeling as though your loved ones would be better off, better off without the burden of taking care and worrying about you all the time. It's not being able to move because your limbs feel like lead, just laid in bed feeling helpless and although life is pointless now. It's feeling like nothing, not one thing is worth feeling in this much pain, not seeing your loved ones, nothing that makes you happy is worth the relentless agony that comes with mental ill health. 

When most of us say we're feeling suicidal, what that translates to for me, is that I've had enough of feeling this way, of feeling so overwhelmingly shit that I feel like I simply can't go on. It means I've hit rock bottom, and there's no way of bringing me round anymore, I'm lost in the wilderness of my mental illness, unable to find my way back to stability. It means that nothing that brings me even an ounce of happiness compares to the pain I feel just by waking up to another day of tears and sadness and emptiness. It means I want to kill the dark black hole inside of me that tears me apart, and keeps me up at night. 

I've felt suicidal on and off for around 4 years now, in the crux of my ill health, when I was first diagnosed with bpd, and I thought my life was over. But I haven't always felt this way. I've had problems with my mental health since I was 12 years old when I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, but even then I didn't want to die, I just didn't want to eat and gain weight. The last few years my suicidal thoughts have got me at my lowest, crept into my brain in the dead of night and eaten away at my thoughts, or sometimes they've opened my brain during a normal day, walked right in and made themselves at home. 

Suicide attempts are aplenty in my past, but they don't have to be or define my future. Nor does it have to define yours either. 

I refuse to be a statistic, I refuse to be a sad story, I refuse to be lost my mind and my illness.

I'm going to fight, and if you're out there struggling like me, I hope you will join me.

Meg x