Trigger
warning: this blog post discusses suicidal thoughts.
September
is National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. The aim of this
campaign is 'to share resources and stories in an effort to shed
light on this highly taboo and stigmatized topic.' Last Sunday was World Suicide Prevention Day,
a campaign intending to reduce the huge numbers of people taking
their own lives.
I
remember back in either '09 or '10, when I was mates with a group of
privately educated lads with chips on their shoulders, all desperate
to prove that they weren't just middle class BMW drivers. I was at a
house party with them when one of them brought up the issue of
suicide. He was quite a popular guy (although I couldn't stand him).
Before long a number of them wanted to share their stories of their
lowest points, and their suicidal feelings. I didn't.
One
of the girls in the group quite fancied me, and I liked her too, but
I hated her brother. He'd threatened to batter me for no reason, and
a mutual friend witnessed this and did fuck all. Of course, dealing
with depression myself, I brushed it off.
The
party was at their parents' house. But this girl, she wanted to know
if I'd ever thought about 'that'- suicide. I was in two minds about
opening up. I decided not to. I knew my friendship with the group,
and the potential relationship with her, wasn't going anywhere. But I
lacked the confidence to say no to the group, and to cut myself off.
I didn't do that until 2015.
Talk,
talk, talk. Don't bottle it. But find the right people to do that
with- your instincts will tell you if they are good enough friends.
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