Date: 22nd Jan 2024
CW for this post, as the title suggests this post talks about self harm and suicidality, nothing graphic mentioned but look after yourself should you read this :)
I’m aware this is not a super fun topic to be discussing. But as an aspect of my mental health journey and one that I have touched upon in other posts and in podcast episodes, I kinda wanted to unpack it a bit as I’ve realised years on, it’s more complicated than I initially thought. I don’t buy into the idea that talking about things like suicide and self harm can make anyone decide to do anything. This is from my own experience as I had no idea what either of these two things were, despite hearing the words being thrown about, until I’d either pretty much stopped hurting myself or ended up in hospital and realised what exactly the word “suicide” meant. But I also do not want to give people the tools to hurt themselves either, so I will not and never will be openly and more importantly, graphically, mentioning how I used to hurt myself here in blog posts (at least not the life threatening ways that people can replicate) or graphically discussing how I tried to kill myself either, as from the research I have done, that information is much more likely to wind up with people attempting something.
Ok with that mental rejig and I guess slight disclaimer out the way, I guess I should stop rambling and discuss what I came here to talk about. My lived experience of depression, self harm and suicidality. These three things are very closely entwined for a while and then eventually, the depression goes, along with the suicidality and only self harm remains.
I think looking back my first real episode of depression happened when I was about 16. I’d had a few blips before then. I remember being around 14 and wanting my life to stop as my only friend at the time had broken our relationship off and I was alone and stressed. But I never had any plans, I just wanted to not be so lonely anymore and fix what was so ‘wrong’ with me that meant people kept leaving.
I know for a fact I have discussed the shit I remember from college in another post. But I don’t think I mentioned too much about the self harm starting and suicide plans aspect. May be wrong, I have very limited data remaining on my phone and no wifi in my new place, so kinda can’t check very easily. But again, college is where this all started for me. I cannot have been more than 6 months into my ‘relationship’ with the deep joys of my own personal nightmare woman Sara Kelly, when I started self harming in various ways. The first one I won’t mention as it’s something people could replicate. The second was I started to take a lot of risks with my life. I normally hate doing risky stuff, I like feeling safe and calm and grounded but when things with Sara got too much, I’d start to stand too close to the edge of the platform, stop checking when I crossed roads, stopped eating and chose to let the abusive tutor in my life, closer to me by telling her vulnerable information I knew she could end up using against me. But that thrill, the ‘high’ I guess of the unknown, kept me stable. Until it didn’t anymore. And when my self harm methods stopped working, the suicidality crept in. The self doubt started, the depression worsened. But from the outside, I looked normal. Nobody would likely have know I was struggling or planning my death/wishing for it. I ended up developing a pretty serious eating disorder as the only thing I ended up being able to feel, was hunger/pain, so I just stopped eating at college. Sara knew and I knew she knew because she kept asking me if I’d eaten. To which I lied and said I had, when I hadn’t. But it made her attentive and to be honest, I like that. It was that thrill thing again of someone who I loved and hated and admired but was terrified of, noticing me. It wasn’t healthy. But then again, our entire 2 year long relationship was far from healthy.
By 17, I got officially diagnosed with both Generalised Anxiety Disorder (courtesy of what I now know to be the joys of panic attacks) and more importantly to this aspect of my life, depression. I was put on anti-depressants in the hopes they would start to stem the depression and anxiety combo. They did nothing other than numb me further. Which because I was then feeling so utterly numb, trapped and like, well a robot I guess, the replicable self harm massively picked up. And it went from being once a week, to once a day, to several times a day, to every break I had at college resulting in me hurting myself. By the time I finished college at 18, my parents had found out about my self harm but not about Sara or the abuse or the suicidality.
I was not in control of my parents being informed of my self harm. A family friend (who’s a theatre director and we were working together directing a play at my local Welsh am dram group), caught sight of my scars on my arms and quizzed me on what the heck they were. I cannot remember crying as hard as I did when she found out, it was an accident but one I know needed to happen. But she forced my hand and in as many words said “if you don’t tell your parents in the next 3 days, I will”. The next 2 days were hell on earth for me and bar 2020, I have never been more suicidal in my life. I just wanted a way out. I’ve never forgiven this friend, though I know she did what she did out of care for me, the ways in which she went about it traumatised me more and left me with even deeper trust issues.
I left for uni in August of 2019, still wobbly as fuck but a bit more stable. I’d had a bit of therapy about things but my underlying issues of trust, abuse and various childhood traumas had not been solved. So the moment things got too much at uni, my old habits returned. My eating disorder came back as I tried to control more and then the self harming returned. Not quite as bad as it was at college but still far from fine. March 2020 rolled around and lockdown happened. I returned home, did uni online for a term (3 months) and then for year two of uni, I decided to move back to London in the hopes I could go back to uni in person. I think I discussed this briefly when the court case in Jan last year was going on. I know for a fact somewhere on this hot mess of a site, I discussed my various failing relationships with the 3 people in this flat and that it eventually led to 2 suicide attempts in October that year.
But something I have never mentioned was the new form of self harm that entered my life. On top of my (now somewhat reduced) issues with food and body image, I started putting myself into risky relationships with men I had never met. During this time I was questioning my sexuality and whether I was even able to feel love, which was hard in and of itself. And long before my sexual, friends with benefits thing with my (now very ex) friend who ended up being assaulted in our flats kitchen, I’d started self harming by having unprotected sex with unknown men. Ugh, the cringe and shame I feel writing that sentence down. When my friends assault happened a month or so later, I had stopped that form of self harm but her assault resulted in me blamed myself and 2 weeks later, ended up in hospital after a very serious attempt to end my life. Thankfully no damage was done (as far as we are aware) and I swore from that moment on, that the depression that led me there, the suicidality and self harm would all stop.
But they kind of didn’t. I struggled on and off in my relationship with Nicola with self harming. When I eventually moved back to London in 2022, things eased off and I knew the depression had truly gone and I thought the suicidality had as it’d been 2 years since I’d even thought of wanting things to end. When Nicolas relationship crashed and burned (and my sense of self and safety with it) in late Sept, early Oct 2022, I won’t lie, I did want things to stop. I wanted the pain to go and for things to be ok again. I wanted more than anything to feel safe in the presence of tutors again and know nobody was going to hurt me. I imagine my experience after Nicola left, is as close to heartbreak as I will ever actually get in my life without having a romantic partner. I trusted that woman deeply and she hurt me in ways I cannot express. Nearly broke me to be completely frank and I am still reeling from things a year and a bit later. I don’t know why but I never planned anything out to get the pain to stop. Perhaps the world just knew things would turn out ok or perhaps it was the feeling of hope the two new, still very scary at the time, tutors on the MASc had given me in mid Oct when they cared for me mid panic attack on the floor outside of class. A moment that all this time later, is still so strong in my head, I can almost picture it. It’s like a good kind of flashback if you get me, one filled with kindness and care and not fear and horror. I’d fully accepted I was very asexual and very aromantic and was learning to be ok with it around this time, as well as adjust to a life without a Nicola in it.
Time ticked on and soon enough, 2023 had rolled around. I was loving life, feeling happy and feeling a tad bit more secure around Luna and Jack. But then Luna announced she was being forced to leave the course and my world felt like it crashed and burned. I have genuinely never cried as hard in my life, not even when I’ve been mid panic attack. I was hyperventilating while sobbing hysterically for a solid 30 minutes after the news broke. I managed to withhold the tears long enough for class to end but then broke shortly afterwards. I was dealing with flashbacks, panic attacks, fear, a massive deal of anxiety and a huge sense of loss for the course that I knew. I'd grown very attached to Luna at this point, we all had, so the idea she would leave broke me in a way not too dissimilar to that of Nicolas departure. But obviously without the tones of abuse underneath mine and Luna's relationship. She was at the time, my only safe tutor on the course and I genuinely questioned if I would return without her. I was heartbroken in a way I had never experienced before and wanted to lash out at myself to have control over at least one thing.
I went home after peak times in London ended, broke down writing a song and was immediately on the phone texting Shout (a helpline) trying to not self harm. I didn’t but it was a close call. I really struggled to come back into uni after the announcement and got so stressed I stopped eating again and shut down. Important to say, none of this is Lunas fault, nor Jack. The fault lies with UCL as an institution and how they thought it was ok to treat their staff and by proxy, students. I stabilised when things got sorted with Luna and she ended up staying till June/July but it was a rough couple of weeks.
I was all good until SELCS and the issues around that stuff started. And my stress levels hoiked right back up. I managed to just about be ok until the last couple weeks of having Luna around. I hate change and struggle with it at the best of times but with Jack about to shortly go away and be unavailable to see in person and Luna just about to vanish as well, I ended up breaking my 2 year long clean streak from self harm and relapsed. Again, I don’t think anyone knew but I was in a lot of both physical and mental pain for the last couple weeks of Luna being around in person. And then every tutor vanished pretty much at the same time. Within 2 weeks both Jack and Luna were unavailable in person, I was living by myself for the first time and still thought I could be at risk of failing the entire MASc. So the food issues started again, I also had the heart scare as well (which is still ongoing) and the risk taking started again. And it wasn't until mid way through July when things got a bit too real, a bit too risky and I almost got seriously hurt, that I stopped seeking that thrill.
The depression has long gone at this point in 2024, ditto the suicidality but my experiences still haunt me and make me very wary of what I do. For example, I no longer drink alcohol. I try to keep safe foods in the house and eat when I can. I avoid keeping anything I could self harm with, in reach of my bed as the time where one is trying to sleep, is when my brain is at its most powerful. But I still really struggle with admitting I need help. Heaven only knows it took me reaching breaking point academically to reach out to Luna and Jack. And even when I knew I needed extra support in a mental health capacity, I still didn’t reach out for help within UCL because the amount of shame and stigma around self harm and mental health astounds me. I didn’t want people to think less of me because of my past or because I was struggling but as someone who constantly says “ask for help if you need it” online, I realise how hypocritical I am, when asking for help, is often the thing that stops me from getting into stupid situations. I should really listen to my own advice I guess is what I am saying.
And I am getting much better now, 7 months on, at asking for help, asking for advice, trusting people with my moments of shame and vulnerability. Both Jack and Luna now have access to this site, along with some of my other trusted friends, so I know when I post this, there is a chance people I know, people I love, trust and care for deeply, could learn about areas of my past I am most ashamed of. But for once, I am not going to let that stop me speaking about it. Because I think speaking about my mistakes, my unhealthy tendencies reduces the power the shame I have associated with them, has over me. It's how I grew to be able to speak about what happened between Sara/Nicola and I with more ease. I opened up about things like this in therapy for the first time and know I am finally on the road to a life, where my past and its associated shame, may no longer haunt me quite so frequently.
But despite all the ups and downs, I am very stressed now and not once have I wanted to hurt myself. My continued issues around food, which I may touch more on in a different post, are, well continuing. I know the second I get stressed, my ability to eat is the first thing to go. I get nauseous really easily and stomach cramps etc and the idea of eating when my body is actively telling me nothing in the entire world sounds appealing right now, is hard at the best of times.
But I am alive. I am happy and I am excited for the future and 6 (nearly 7) years ago, that was something I thought was impossible.
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