I was 11 years old when I first thought, “maybe this life isn’t for me”.

 

 

Okay, okay, I’ll be honest, it probably wasn’t that profound of a thought, but the sentiment was the same.

 

 

I am now 29 years old and I still twirl that thought around in my head. For that reason, this cause means a lot to me.

 

 

Fundamentally, I want to live. But the truth of the matter is that sometimes I don’t know if I can and it is at that point that the mind turns to thoughts of suicide.

 

 

Over the years, these thoughts have spanned from a momentary lapse of perspective that passes in seconds to hours of rumination about the validity of it as a choice, right through to active planning.

 

 

I’ve not often spoken about the times where I have been on the more severe scale of suicidal ideation but there is one night in particular which is an important story to share.

 

 

It starts in 2016. I’ve become increasingly unwell. Depression has hit, the sleepless nights are endless, the panic is paralysing. This would become progressively worse as the weeks went by and I went largely untreated as all the things that worked before were no longer working. I was locked in a stalemate with doctors who were unsure of what to do, a mind that couldn’t explain what was happening and a body that couldn’t cope.

 

 

One night I was extremely intoxicated. I was drinking alcohol excessively to hopefully numb the pain that I was feeling. However on this night, with every double shot vodka that I drank, the pain got worse. The emotional distress was so severe that I felt physical pain. My heart hurt, my brain throbbed, my legs could no longer hold me up and my tears seemed endless. I was in a public place, but I was essentially unaware of everything around me.

 

 

I was approached by a stranger. He reached out to me and asked me if I was okay. All I could say to him choking through tears was “I just don’t want to be alive anymore.” Over and over again. He sat down next to me. He asked me my name. He walked away from his night of fun and frivolity with his friends to try to help me. He sat with me for what seemed like hours, until I was ready to go home, to go home safe, and to try this whole life thing again tomorrow.

 

 

I don’t know how that night might have ended up if he didn’t approach me. It might have ended the exact same way, or it might have ended horrifically worse, all I know is that the night ended, and a new day began in the morning. What he did might not seem like much, but it was everything, and most importantly, it was enough. Enough to make a difference, enough for me to hold on to one more day. And that is why awareness is so important.

 

 

Awareness could be the difference between someone walking past a distressed soul on the street and someone reaching out to a person in need of help. Sometimes all a person needs is a moment of kindness and understanding to make them believe that they can hold on one more day. Awareness leads to understanding. Understanding leads to prevention.

 

 

I am participating in Tread Together, a 24 hour treadmill challenge in support of Suicide Prevention Australia (SPA), to raise much-needed awareness of suicide, and funds towards its prevention.

 

 

If you can’t afford to donate, that is fine. If you’re at this point on my page, I sincerely appreciate the time you’ve given to read my story. If you think anyone else in your life would be interested in this cause, please share this page with them.

 

 

All donations over $2 are tax deductible within Australia, and you will be issued with a Deductible Gift Recipient (DGR) receipt via email as soon as you make a donation.

 

 

Thank you for your support!

 

Carly Matthew