Mental Health Monday’s #3

Mental Health Monday's #3

Hey guys!

Today is part 3 of my Mental Health Monday’s. Again, I feel inspired and grateful that people have shared their journey with me and are willing to allow me to share these posts. I think it is important to note that everything I post in this series is completely unedited, unchanged and raw from the person who has shared it with me.

“One day you wake up and it hits you all in one, like a slap in the face. It’s overwhelming, this powerful feeling of pain and hurt. The extreme feeling of numbness, like nothing matters anymore, not the way you look, not the you feel, not the way others treat you or the way you treat others. It simply doesn’t matter. You ask yourself, ‘What is life? What is the point?’ You’re born to feel nothing but hurt, to just die in the end anyway. And that is the thought that is drilled into your mind. It might be right, it might be wrong, but what I do know is that it doesn’t feel good. I woke up one morning, and as soon as my eyes opened tears streamed down my face. I stared up at the ceiling wishing that I didn’t have to live for another day in what felt like hell. My first thought wasn’t ‘what shall I have for breakfast?’ Or ‘what shall I wear today?’ It was more like ‘how can I end it all?’ ‘How do I find a way out?’ ‘How do I numb the pain?’ I got up and left the house as soon as I could. The sun was beaming down on a pretty autumn day. The scenery of this season gave me a sense of comfort, but not enough to give me hope to hold on. I was a miserable teenager, negative thoughts suffocated me whilst my mind wanted to battle on a daily basis. I was exhausted, I just wanted peace, and I couldn’t find it here. I desperately wanted to leave this life behind. I had hit rock bottom, so why did I feel so relieved? Once you hit the bottom the only way is up. I didn’t realise it then, but that’s where the glimpse of relief came from; I knew it couldn’t get any worse. As I stumbled along, thinking of what to do, I decided that this is the day I wanted to leave this earth, it’s as simple as that. I know that seems extreme but that’s honestly how I felt. I looked around at other people, someone walking their dog, someone strolling along laughing and joking with their children, someone driving their car with the radio on, singing along happily. Then there was me, sad, hurt, lonely and drained from life. Then I realised I had no place in this world. No where to call home, no one to go back to, no one to talk to and no one to rely on. I had made up my mind, and strangely it made me smile which felt like the first time in forever. I finally felt like I was going to leave this hell; I didn’t have to face this battle anymore. I felt like I was finally going to find peace and freedom, I couldn’t wait. I held my ten pound note in my hand, the only money I had, and I asked every person outside of the shop to go in for me to get a bottle of vodka. I was sixteen, so I wasn’t legal to drink, but that’s all I wanted at the time. I begged and pleaded with different people, some old, some younger, some male, some female, some black, some white. Part of me just wanted to break down to one of them and cry for help, but I kept it inside. It was 11am on a Saturday morning though, no wonder I was getting stares and looked at as if I was a vulgar creature. But That made me feel even worse, which made me more determined to get the alcohol and drown my sorrows, as most people say. But this wasn’t metaphorical, this was real. I wanted to drown, drown my mind; drink and drink and be away from it all. That’s what I did. Someone got me the vodka eventually, and so I started to sip. Gulp by gulp, I felt better and better. With every swig I took some tablets, I don’t even know what they were or how I got them but I knew it would do some damage and hopefully end my life. I HOPED to die. Hoped. For the first time which felt like forever, I remember feeling happy. I remember smiling. It was almost as if the best thing ever was about to happen to me. I don’t remember much more from that night. It was all a blur. The next day I woke up. In hospital. I was still alive. I was broken. The pain was still there; it was worse. Why was I still here? I was still suicidal. My plan hadn’t worked, and anger filled my veins. I didn’t want to live anymore, do we not have a choice whether to live or die? Why did I have to face this life everyday? It didn’t seem fair. But you know what wasn’t fair, my parents finding out that their daughter had attempted suicide. Imagine if they had to bury me. Imagine my sisters coming to my funeral, imagine hurting the people I love the most. Imagine destroying other people’s lives because I was weak. Imagine their lives now, if I was gone. People do care, there’s always someone that cares. I’m 21 now, I have a beautiful daughter, Someone I wouldn’t have if my ‘plan’ would have worked out. I have my own place, a good job and I’m happy. I’m stable, I’m no longer living in hell. And why is this? I decided to get help. I had counselling, I read books on mental health and strategies of positive thinking, I exercised, I learnt to love myself. I was strong. I am strong. Anyone out there feeling the way that I did, I can promise you now, that feeling is temporary, life does get better. Like I said, once you hit rock bottom… the only way is up.”

If you wish to take part in my new Mental Health Monday’s series by contributing your journey or an inspiring piece like I have shared today then do not hesitate to email me, even if you are not the best writer in the world but still want to be involved then please do email me and we can still work something else: zoesmith-x@hotmail.co.uk.

Thank you for reading!

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