Editor’s note: This column deals with the topics of suicide and attempted suicide. The Canada Suicide Prevention Service line is available 24/7 at 1-833-456-4566.
Two years ago today, I attempted to take my own life after a very traumatic event a few days prior.
I woke up that morning feeling hurt, broken, devastated and betrayed, but telling myself, “You got this!” I went for a drive, took some pictures, spoke to my friends and had lunch with my teenage children. From the outside it all seemed like a normal day, but it was far from it. The pain was so strong. My heart was shattered. I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I tried. Believe me, I tried.
There are no words to describe what I felt. The pain was so deep that it took away all my physical and mental strength and I was losing the battle to keep going. Sometime in the afternoon, I walked up to each of my children, “playfully” gave them a very tight hug, a kiss and told them I loved them. After that I went to my room, picked up a bottle of pills and drove off.
I drove to the lake, a place where I would always go to ground myself. Once there, I wrote a note to my children apologizing and asking for forgiveness for my actions and for leaving them, then began taking the pills, looked out onto the lake and simply waited to die. I was desperate to stop the hurting.
I could have called my friends; I could have called my children; I could have called my family; I could have called a helpline, even 911, but I didn’t. When you are in that state of mind, the last thing you want is to be a “bother,” to be looked at as “weak,” or, worse, an “attention seeker.”
Fortunately, it was not my time to go because I was blessed with a second chance at life. At first, I was angry because now I was going to be judged by my actions and the pain was still there. Somehow within a day or two I got the strength to tell my dear friends what I had done, and that the thoughts to end my life were still very strong in my head.
I was absolutely blessed with amazing support, including medical care. However, two people whom I cared for deeply and needed by my side said to me exactly what I was afraid to hear: “You just want attention” and “I can’t be around people with a weak brain.” Those statements threw me right back into that deep hole I was trying so hard to climb out of. Thankfully, I was already surrounded by my “support team,” who never left my side, who held me up when I had no strength, who constantly told me that I was strong and that together we would get me through this.
I owe them my life.
Once you reach the point of a suicide attempt, it’s like you open a door to a monster in your head and those negative thoughts come back into your mind when you least expect it, and it takes over. As I would experience this nightmare, I would call one of my friends and they would stay with me until that awful feeling was gone. I remember very clearly thinking, “I survived this episode; will I be just as lucky next time?” Sometimes I would drive to my friends’ places in tears, fearing my own mind and desperately looking for that hug that would keep me alive.
The fight for my life on top of the hell that I was still going through was real. It was a war that I fought daily, mostly in silence and behind closed doors, being a mom, a daughter, a friend and so on. To the outside world, I was still that strong, happy and very playful person. Little did they know that behind that smile was a broken woman who was barely holding on to life.
Why am I sharing this? Because, unfortunately, not everyone will get a second chance like I did. And just like me, people do not reach out for help, so stop thinking that if your loved one needs you, they will call you. They won’t.
We also tend to assume that friend who is always making everyone laugh and smile must be fine. It may not be the case. Most of the time those are the ones who are hurting the most. We need to help each other when life throws us into that deep hole. Mental health struggle is real. Many people are holding on by a thread and feel lonely. I know the feeling of “loneliness” while surrounded by so many people.
I, too, understand the pain, the hurt, the struggle, and mostly I understand what it’s like to live every day with that monster inside of my head.
Today I am happy, I am safe, I am mentally strong, and I love me. However, I had to make a heartbreaking decision for all of that to be possible, including moving away from the toxic environment that nearly got me killed, having to leave behind all those people I truly love and who mean the world to me. Also, by cutting many people from my life and allowing myself to be vulnerable by asking for help when I am not having a good day.
Anyone can struggle with their mental health, no matter their age, sex, race, religion, or financial status. Having suicidal thoughts does not make you a selfish or weak person. It only means you need help to overcome whatever life has thrown at you. Know that there is always someone who is willing to help you. Yes, the pain is unbearable at times, you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, but please know that it does get better. You are worth so much more than you can see right now.
I send my love to all of you who are struggling with this monster and those of you who have become secondary victims to suicide, meaning someone close to you has taken their own life. Let’s stop the judgment and criticism, and show others that we care. It can save a life.
I am here for you. Find me on social media at soniam.dasilva, or email me at [email protected]. Together we will get you through this.
Thank you so much to everyone who has been there for me and got me through this. I can never repay you.
Former area resident Sonia DaSilva moved back to her hometown in Portugal last year. She is an early childhood educator and childhood development specialist by trade and works as a parenting doula.
