Death from Mental illness, Not suicide.

When we hear that someone has taken their own life, there are usually a few different reactions. Some say that they committed suicide, some say took their own life, and some people just say they passed away. What I'm about to suggest is something I've thought about for a very long time; I've always thought that people that are suicidal, are warriors fighting a battle within themselves, and fighting another war keeping it from others. I know this because I've been there. I've had that rifle in my mouth, focused solely on the fact I could not put any more effort into both these extremely tough wars going on in my life. How could I ever tell anyone that I was dying from a mental illness? I was not committing a crime; I was purely making a decision based on the information I was feeding my mind.

In my own experiences with suicidal thoughts and actions- they are not a cry for attention, they were a last resort. I'm not perfect, and I don't claim to know everything about mental illness or suicide, all I have is my own experiences. I've never thought of suicide as a crime, but rather the only other option in my mind. My depression, anxiety, and P.T.S.D. had me believing that suicide was the only option to stop the chaos, the pain, and the abandonment I felt for so long. I was dying from depression. I was sick with an illness. I was not a criminal. Dying from a mental illness is just the same as dying from any other diseases. If we don't treat our illness, it will turn fatal. If you had diabetes and didn't take your insulin because of what people thought about your diabetes, you would die very quickly. This is a language shift we as society have to make. People die from physical ailments every single day, yet we never put suicide in that category.

My last suicide attempt was in 2010. I had taken 80 sleeping pills, and drank a 40oz of whiskey before 10am. I had sent a few good byes to people and I’m willing to bet they were wondering why I was saying good bye. I was found with very low vitals and taken to hospital by ambulance and then by police to a psychiatric ward the next day. I never got to speak to a mental health professional for 2 days, and what I learned that day will stay with me forever. It's not something I like about myself, but something that has been on my mind. I wouldn't tell anyone but a crisis line if I was suicidal today. As much as I love my support and friends and family, for me I would not call them. The reason I say this is because in my mind it would cause more hurt and confusion if I told someone close that I have a plan to end my life. I thank god every day for crisis lines- the humans that work for them are angels among us. I can boldly state right now I've called the crisis line over 50 times since 2010, and I'm still here.

Being suicidal is not something to be ashamed of. It's something that's incredibly hard to admit, even to yourself. It takes guts for anyone to admit there not okay. Use the resources in or around your community to get the help you deserve. And yes!! You do deserve it. I've had some very tough days since May; I got sick and had to postpone the I'm 1in5 tour which was devastation to my mind, lost a great friend to suicide, had a terrible break up with an absolute beautiful woman, wrote my car off in an accident,  lost my puppy and the list goes on.

In November I thought that was it, that I could not do it anymore. I went as far as looking at payment of funeral expenses for myself; I wouldn't want to put that on anyone else. I figured I would wear my suit, so no one would have to see me naked. These thoughts were getting very intrusive to the point that I had a plan. This was the scariest time of 2015. I didn't want to let anyone know, I didn't want to even believe these thoughts were getting this intense. My plan was taking action. I had called the crisis line and even went and spoke face to face with a crisis nurse at the hospital. The mental health system in Canada is absolutely atrocious, and I'm not afraid to say so. I wasn't in immediate danger, and due to the amount of patients that were already admitted, I was to go home and call the crisis line every 2 hours. I was dumbfounded that was the process I had to take to stay alive for another day.

As suicidal as I’ve been, I've always thought of others. Would anyone even notice I'm gone, would I just be a stat, and an obituary in a local newspaper? Of course people would notice. Some of my greatest supports would be crushed. I know this and it's helpful and also a hindrance. I've thought about ending my life on my birthday before, for the sole reason people will only have to feel sad 1 day a year, not my birthday and death day. These are things I've spoken with my counsellors with and I assure you right now, I'm not suicidal, and have zero plans. I've reached a point in my life, that if I have to call a 9 digit phone number to save my life I will. I will not be stigmatized by my diagnosis. I won't let others suffer from the decisions I make when I'm very sick with mental illnesses.

My friends can say “call me if you need an ear” and I would still call the crisis line- it's just where I'm at. I'm a work in progress and I'm dumping the baggage that I've allowed in my mind for so long. Anger towards me will never take the pain and hurt and abandonment away. Taking action and talking to someone about it may start that process. It's working for me, and I have more baggage that an air Canada flight from Gander to Vancouver. I don't love myself today, but I believe I'm worthy of love. I believe love will happen in my life when I start to accept the same amount of love I give out. Life's a big wheel, and the love will come around full circle, I just have to put it out there.

If your suicidal, or worried about ending your life. Please hang on! Please call a crisis line. We need you! If your worried about someone that maybe suicidal, call your local crisis line, they have great tips and techniques on how to love a suicidal person through there moments of deep hurt and pain. No one commits suicide; they die from a treatable disease, mental illness.