Suicide is an option

I promise this is not clickbait and for many reasons this was never going to be published. Today, though, I thought I'd try and do something that many may call brave (I wouldn't). Some may call self-indulgent (I don't). Maybe others will call useful (I hope).

It was an Autumn evening and after a long and peaceful walk, I stood at the edge of a cliff. Below were the crashing waves of the sea. Powerful, beautiful and actually restful. I sat down and looked out at the horizon. I've always loved the sea to the point I'd say I have brine for blood. I am at my most peaceful in, on or near it. My eyes were drawn back to below. In that moment I contemplated where I was and what led to me this place. I was in pain. A deep, burning and surging pain that filled every moment of every day for the past 2 weeks. Though arguably it had been there for years but the box it had been packed into couldn't contain it any longer. It wouldn't go away. On top of that, my mind wouldn't stop. It was always busily working and I was exhausted. It was all becoming irreconcilable. There was no-one to help who could understand. I would never burden friends or family with it either - I'm the strong one who takes away problems. I try to never add them. Actually, the world would be better if I just slipped away. Actually, yes. It would. I'm worth more financially if I'm dead so that helps those who I love. I take away any burden that I would otherwise add. I would finally quiet this mind of mine. Yes, I could just slip away. Looking down, the sea was that place of peace again. Only this peace would be a little more definitive. My phone buzzed. Then again. And again. And again. Taking it out of my pocket, I was about to switch it off when I saw they were messages. A whole series of them from ____. His name will remain off the books - sorry. He knows who he is and he will probably (definitely) be reading this now.

I opened one of them "Colonic irrigation. Any thoughts?" I smiled and couldn't help but look at the next one "Seriously. I'm thinking about it". Now committed, I opened the next one "Just seen a video, maybe not". Now realising that read receipts were pinging back, the phone rang. We spoke about nothing. Literally nonsense until the question came about where I was and what could be heard in the background. I could lie. I could dodge. I could front. Something told me to front. I then found myself telling him why I was where I was. Then came a promise. A promise that I would give him two hours. Just two hours. The sea would still be there in two hours. He needed to make sure he wouldn't be interrupted to chat longer. For all we had been through together, could I give him two hours. Two hours passed. I thought about him and the things we had experienced together. Camaraderie is somewhat lost in many quarters but we had it. Built over many years, tested on more than one occasion, but true and steady. I'd walk through fire for him and I think I more or less did once. It was then that from behind me a voice said "If you want a swim, there are easier ways" and there he stood. Grin on his face but eyes of reassurance. I guess by calling back, he was quite literally coining the childhood definition of "I'll call for you". I cannot describe the emotion. Fear definitely. Anger maybe. Shame entirely. In a beat, he was sitting next me to me. We spoke. That became a drink in a nearby village pub. That became a roadtrip which turned into a nightcap back at his house. It was there that I spent the rest of the weekend. One thing that I remember clearly is that he never questioned why nor tried to diffuse me with the many paths I could take instead nor did he judge me. He might well of wanted to, I'm sure I would in his position. But he knew what I needed. Somewhere, sometime and someone to allow my mind to quieten just a little. Even if that was to listen to nonsense, tales of the past and talk of the weather (we are British after all). I returned home three days later. Still in pain but not overwhelmed. Mind not quietened but quelled. Sense of self still threatened but slightly emboldened. More than that, I returned home.

People who are considering ending their life are thinking straight, they know the options and are almost at peace with all of it. At least, that is how it feels. Executive function has given over to the limbic function. How I feel is overriding how I think. What I actually need is for endorphins to reduce and allow the executive function to reboot. Certainly what is not needed is a judgement or a threat or further stress. That's going to prompt adrenaline which is going to cause the instinctive function to kick in - fight, flight, freeze. The way to react to feeling is with feeling, with empathy, with genuine compassion. This gives the moment of pause. Just a moment. A moment where the executive function can return and we can truly consider the path upon which we are about to embark. This true in every aspect of our lives, actually.

I appreciate this is my view and framing to something far far more complex. Not only that, it is different for every person, every context and every situation. I would never claim otherwise. I am acutely aware that by sharing this story I leave myself vulnerable to the court of public opinion. This, though, is part of who I am and if sharing helps others, then I am happy with whatever collateral judgement comes my way.

My ask of everyone is not to judge someone who feels that ending their life is the best option. Not to try and rationalise or bring logic to that feeling. Not to try and presume that the comprehension of their pain is something you can achieve. Just give the greatest gift you can can give to someone who is feeling overwhelming, irreconcilable, irrevocable pain. The gift of a moment of pause.

If you are being offered that gift, please do take it. No strings, no expectation of something in return and no judgement. Just a gift.

Thank you.