How I came back from the brink

I wake with a jerk, my heart thumping and on high alert as if I am in immediate danger. It takes me a while to locate myself before it hits me. I am in a mental hospital. Three suicide attempts have resulted in me being sectioned. The weight of guilt about this feels as heavy as the ton of fear and anxiety about still being alive, deepening my depression and self-loathing. But here I am, in a mental clinic, trying to read a book about compassion-focused therapy whilst doodling pictures of my dog.

“Before my suicide attempts I hid my depression for fear of rejection. This only led to a deep-rooted shame.”

The scenario I have just described was me back in 2022. The present looks very different. I am not going to say everything is perfect now. It isn’t. I am shattered by the effort of managing my mental health daily. But I am alive, and I’m writing this as I look out over the sea, with my partner and my dog snuggled beside me. I am now 42 and can finally say without shame that I have Complex PTSD, an eating disorder, depression, insomnia and anxiety. I have attempted suicide three times and self-harmed on numerous occasions. Before my suicide attempts I hid my depression for fear of rejection. This only led to a deep-rooted shame that I was somehow ‘wrong’.

Shame is described as a feeling of self-judgement and humiliation that can linger. My shame had become chronic. For the majority of my adult life I seemed in control but I had hidden everything under a blanket of achievement and get-up-and-go. My deeply held belief was that I was flawed, worthless and unlovable. This had taken hold in childhood whilst growing up in a financially unstable and emotionally volatile environment. We were expected to stay quiet and get on with it, without making a fuss. These suppressed emotions of pain and secrecy were cemented by further life traumas, including a two-year stint in a wheelchair following a serious car accident, a broken neck and a damaged spine. Years of chronic pain and the side effects that go alongside strong painkillers did their own long-term damage.

The behaviour modelled to me was to keep quiet and suck it up. This was backed up by the familiar mantra ‘don’t cry or I will give you something to cry about’. Failed marriages, miscarriages and a family disconnect intensified my desire for belonging and connection. However, my experience of lies and betrayal led to a deep mistrust and fear of others, particularly men. A deeply entrenched belief that I deserved all my misfortunes enveloped me in shame that spiralled into a deep, dark depression.

“My basic self care diminished and I was barely washing or eating. This was hidden from others in part due to lockdown.”

First I withdrew from social engagements and work, then from everyone. My basic self care diminished and I was barely washing or eating. This was hidden successfully from others in part due to lockdown. Every movement I made felt watched and judged. My paranoia had clamped my mouth and my heart shut.

Then, in May 2021, my best friend, sidekick and cocker spaniel Charlie died. I was heartbroken. He had been through it all with me and had been my constant companion. Days later I discovered my then fiancé had been unfaithful. This shock led to my first suicide attempt. I survived, but spent months in a state of numbness and hibernation from the world. In April 2022 I tried to end my life. Survived. Then attempted again in May.

After my third attempt, I was sectioned and I was terrified I felt I did not belong there, but I wasn’t sure where I belonged any more. I had nothing left.

“My psychologist helped me talk through my feelings and open up the trauma I had buried in some mental bottom drawer.”

That was until I met ward psychologist Dr O. He helped me talk through my feelings and open up the trauma I had buried in some mental bottom drawer. My entire being was tight, resistant to help and curled up around my sense of shame and unworthiness. By talking to him and owning up to everything, including the help I needed, a space opened up within me that enabled me to heal and find peace. The compassion Dr O showed me, and taught me to have for myself, saved me.

“Mental health issues can eat away at your identity. But by reaching out for help, you can begin to heal.”

In life we need tools. A toolkit helps us navigate our way through life’s ups and downs. These tools tend to be passed down from our families. But if this is not available we try to find our own ways to cope. I used work achievements, alcohol, and self-harm to drive me forward. Dr O helped me learn new skills to start the process of healing and unpick the circuits of thinking and negative commentary that had become my norm.

Since then I have received a lot of help from mental health services. I have also learnt a lot through – podcasts, books, blogs and charities like Mind. My daily routine is solely based on my mental wellbeing. I do more yoga, meditation, walking in nature, exercise and talking. Mental health issues can eat away at our identity and self-worth. But by opening up to those you trust, by reaching out for help, you can begin to heal and live fully, letting happiness and joy return. Everyone deserves that.

You can find Michelle's fundraising page on Enthuse. Michelle is doing the Three Peaks Challenge for Mind in September and the Amsterdam Marathon in October.