Siobháns Story

Trigger Warning: Contains talk of Self-Harm and Suicide which some may find triggering.

Mental health, we all have it yet we refuse to accept that we have it. Many of us may live our life without experiencing a mental illness while many of us may experience a mental illness. Those of us who are unfortunate enough to experience a mental illness such as depression or bi-polar tend to hide our illness and in turn let it consume us until we can no longer go on with our lives. We hide our feelings, thoughts, emotions and mental illness because of the stigma which is present in the society we live in today. The stigma associated with mental health is strong despite the work being done by a number of different organisations world wide to reduce this stigma. People fear talking about mental health or their experiences with ill mental health as they fear they will be looked down on by society and seen as an outcast.

Well my experience with poor mental health began when I was 13. I had just started secondary school and was struggling with fitting in, making friends and the typical things a teenage girl would struggle with, I however also had to no female role model to turn too and my dad was like an alien to me, we didn't talk, we didn't communicate, we saw each other in the house and that was it. As the weeks went on I became more isolated, lonely and just plain sad. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know who to turn to and so I just kept all my feelings and emotions bottled up inside me. Although nearing the end of my first yea in secondary school I did receive some help from my school chaplain I did not benefit due to my unwillingness to co-operate. I refused to co-operate because I was scared, worried and self-conscious. I would ask myself what will people think of me if they find out? What will the teachers say? How will I ever make friends now? I like many young teenage girls kept these feelings bottled up inside and never spoke to anyone about it despite numerous efforts made by my family to get me to open up.

I went on living like this up until two days before my junior cert was due to begin. The feelings I had inside me kept building up and up and there was nothing I could do to stop them. I was confused, I couldn't stop my thoughts from racing and I just felt lost in a world that didn't want me. Three years (there a bouts) had gone by and I wasn't feeling any better, I was only spiralling deeper and deeper in a dark place and I could stop it from happening. One day it all change, one day I decided to do something about it.

Sitting alone in my bedroom I had just finished writing my note, what I hoped to be my final note. I wrote it a thousand times to make it perfect, I couldn't give my family anything less than perfect. I placed it under my pillow; I knew they would look under my pillow eventually. I grabbed a towel from the hot press and went back into my room. Shutting the door slowly trying not to make any noise. I didn't want anything to ruin my plan, I couldn't let anybody come into my room, I had put too much planning into this for something to go wrong, it all had to be perfect.

I sat on my bed, my legs crossed and glancing out the window I took a deep breath, I was ready. After spending the day with my brother and dad I was ready, I was ready to take my own life. I took the piece of glass I had been saving for some time, hidden in my room in the remaining part of the jar. I slowly but carefully ran to glass over my arm.  a feeling of relief came over me; it was like I was able to breath. This wasn't what I wanted though, I wanted to die.  I felt alive, I was trying to commit suicide and yet I felt alive, I hadn't felt that alive in weeks.

Six cuts down my arm I freaked out. It was like I suddenly became aware of what I was doing. Did I really want to die? What had I just done? I was bleeding and I couldn't get it to stop. I panicked, suddenly I didn't want to die anymore, I called down to my dad. He came up the stars slowly but surely to find me frantically pacing on the landing, the only words I could manage "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I did something stupid I'm sorry"

It was like I had suddenly woken up and everything was a dream, that's how it felt but it was all a very true reality. Within in seconds my dad had me sitting down and he was applying pressure to my cuts. Paul was racing up the stairs with the first aid kit all while I was crying and constantly saying sorry. I wasn't really aware what was going on around me after that. With a bit of persuasion I was taken to the hospital, I refused to go in the beginning but in reality I had no choice, I was going to the hospital willing or forcibly.

After arriving at the hospital things happened very fast. There was no waiting around to be seen, I was brought to a room so me and my dad could have some time together in private. That’s just what I needed, to be left in a room on my own with a man who was worried and angry. What was I meant to say to him, I couldn't explain what I had done the reality of it was that I didn't know why I wanted to die. I just couldn't cope anymore and unless you haven’t been in that situation before you don’t understand. I didn't want to die I just wanted a way out. I didn't know what else to do and there was no chance that my dad would have understood that. It was agreed that I would be admitted to the hospital so that the next day I could see my psychologist and a psychiatrist. They also wanted to make sure that I was safe but to be honest in my mind I had a million other plans of things that I could do to hurt myself. I had so many ideas and I had planned to carry them out, I didn't realise though that the doctors and nurses were not going to leave me on my own. 

I was brought to the ward and shown my room. Once settled into my bed my dad left, needless to say we weren’t really on talking terms. I was tired and I was annoyed, my plan hadn’t worked. To make things even worse as well I was being watched. There was a nurse sitting by my bed and she was not going to be going away any time soon.This all happened only a few days before the junior cert. I didn’t realise though that I would be starting my junior cert in the hospital. With a nurse with me 24/7 I couldn’t do anything.  

This suicide attempt was my way of looking for help, I know now though that it was indeed the wrong way of looking for help. I was given the help and support that I needed although deep inside me I wasn't ready to get help, I wasn't ready to begin the road to recovery and once again I didn't co-operate and I let myself fall deep into depression and things only began to get worse for me. Once again I kept all my thoughts, feelings and emotions all bottled inside me and at the age of fifteen I became a "cutter". It began with a cut or two every now and again, just enough to draw blood but that soon changed, soon I had become addicted. My life was centered around when I would get my next "fix", I was an addict and cutting was my drug. My self-harm escalated, I became closed off and isolated, I was slowly but surely killing myself but no body knew, nobody knew because I didn't let anybody know.

Somewhere deep inside me I found a spark of strength, with this spark of strength I found the courage to ask for help, I was ready to begin to get help. I didn't like the person I had become as a result of my self-harm and so I reached out. I approached my year-head at the time, Mrs L. We talked, we worked together and this was the beginning of my long and hard road to recovery. Although I had finally taken the first step and asked for help my self-harm persisted and I learned that there was no quick fix. I began seeing a psychologist and a psychiatrist. I was placed on medication and when things did not improve after about a year I was admitted into an adolescent unit to get the help I so desperately need. 

It was here when I was put on a new medication to treat my depression, anxiety and OCD. It was here where I began to have a relationship with my dad, it was here where I met some amazing and inspirational people and it was here that I began to gain control over my self harm and become the Siobhán I once was!  It was hard and it was long but I made it out the other end, I  got discharged, I gained control over my illness and my addiction and I began to be happy again.

I have had many suicide attempts, years of self-harm, scars all over my body but it is because of this I have chosen to speak out about my experiences. I was in a dark and isolated place and at the age of 13 the world is a scary place but with added feelings of loneliness and isolation it becomes even scarier. I have chosen to share my experiences not to look for sympathy or pity but to show people it is okay to talk and to try and help prevent people from going down the same dark road I once did. I didn't talk to my family or my friends and I thought I didn't want help but in fact I did. There is always a reason to live no matter what you might think- I am happy that I am alive and I am happy that I can share my story in the hopes that somebody will read this and realise that there is always a reason to live. Things such as the love an animal has for you, your family, your friends, sports, things you love to do, everything that makes you who you are is your reason to live. At the time I felt there was no way out but I was wrong, there is always a way out. You may feel that there is no help around or that nobody cares about you but that is not true, there is help and people do care about you. There is always a reason to live and don't ever forget that!

Finally in the words of young Donal Walsh-  "Suicide is a permanent solution to your temporary pain"

Siobhán

xx