Trigger warning: This article contains mentions of suicidal ideation
“I don’t want to be here, but I don’t want to die”
I’ve been there. Typing that exact sentence into Google, when I was confused about how I was feeling. It was the only way I knew to describe it.
I didn’t want to be alive… but I was afraid to die.
A couple of years ago, I had a serious breakdown. It turned my life upside down. Multiple visits to A&E and admissions under the Crisis team — which, though was helpful, didn’t change the way I was feeling.
I knew everything I was “supposed” to do (cue the team telling me to try an adult colouring book), but no matter what I did, that feeling wouldn’t disappear.
I don’t even know if I can call it a feeling, because I felt… nothing. It felt like I was just existing. Like an out of body experience. Like I was floating above myself in limbo. I felt numb and like the days were going by, with no end in sight.
I remember sitting on the sofa for days just wishing I didn’t exist.
I experienced suicidal thoughts and ideation; prompted by distressing intrusive thoughts I was having due to my obsessive compulsive disorder, and there were times where I felt like I really would end it all. I remember one night, writing letters to all of my family members, and planning out my finances.
I wasn’t really sure what I wanted, I just didn’t want to be in the world any more. It was mental torture. I remember having a medical procedure once, and being given on morphine, and having a terrifying out-of-body experience where the same moment played over and over around me despite time still moving.
I wanted the mental pain I was in to stop. I wanted to stop going to bed and wishing I wouldn’t wake up. I wanted to fast-forward my life to get it over with. I just wanted it all to stop.
I’d felt like it for months. My body in constant fight or flight mode, feeling like I wanted to cry constantly. Crying constantly. Withdrawing from the world and binge eating to comfort myself. This gut feeling of not being okay filled my stomach. I felt so much until I felt nothing at all.
I didn’t understand it. I had gone from being fine to, well, not being fine, and wanting the world to swallow me up forever.
One night, feeling confused and exhausted, having cried for most of the night, I typed into Google “I don’t want to be here, but I don’t want to die”. And I was shocked to read forum after forum of people experiencing the same thing.
It made me feel comforted in a way. It was horrible that so many felt like this, but it made me realise that I wasn’t alone.
And if you’ve found this article because you have typed it in, too, I want you to know that you’re not alone, either.
I also want you to know that it gets better. It really does, I promise.
As months went by, I couldn’t see an end in sight — but suddenly something clicked in me, and I realised that I could do this. I could get through it. I could carry on. And you can, too.
I made some life changes. I decided to seek help for the way I was feeling. I spoke to my psychiatrist about what I had been going through; something that was nerve wracking because I had been hiding it for so long.
I changed my medication. I got out of a bad relationship and gave myself new challenges. I became more independent and moved out on my own, having lived with someone who made me feel safe for years.
I forced myself to socialise and to make plans, and to try my best to look into the mirror and see the good in me instead of the bad.
I joined online support groups for advice, and was met with a bunch of people who felt exactly how I did. Just like the forums.
With all its flaws, I owe these people on the internet for changing my life.
If you’re currently depressed, and feeling empty and numb and like life is not worth living — I want you to know that the latter is not true. Life is worth living.
I’m here with you, holding your hand, promising that things will change.
No matter how lonely you feel, like you’re the only person in a crowded room full of people; you are not alone.
Please, accept help in whatever way you can. Whether it’s finding forums like I did, joining support groups, or calling anonymous helplines such as Samaritans (116 123).
Things can change, no matter how long you’ve been stuck in the same day-to-day dream-like way.
I’m happy to tell you that two years after that time, I am living with a loving partner and have had a gorgeous baby. I think there will always be a part of me that goes through stages of feeling the feelings I did back then, but I also think that’s just the way of mental illness. And I’m okay with that.
I hope that when you click off of this piece of writing, you change your mind about not wanting to be here. Even if not that, I hope you find some comfort in these words.
I see a future for you, and I hope you do, too.