With the recent death of football legend Gary Speed due to suicide,i thought i would share my story with my battle of this terrible illness that strikes so many down every year,and leave loved ones behind wondering WHY?
15 years ago i lost my father to an attempted suicide,he fully recovered but died a few days later from a D.V.T (deep vein thrombosis)due to been lay in a hospital bed for upto 5 days,stockings which are worn now in hospitals by such patients were not available in 1996.
As you can imagine as an 18 year old man left with a grieving mother and a distraught 14 year old sister the pressure was immense,but i took it on the chest and coped.
Eventually 6 months later i snaped,bubbling underneath was grief,a feeling so gut wrenching and heart breaking i couldn't take it anymore....i attemted to take my own life with an overdose of pills i scraped together from the kitchen cupboard.
The next thing i knew i woke up in a hospital ward surrounded by my close family and friends,apparently my alarm clock went off in my room and woke my mother up who then tried to wake me up,but couldn't,which is why i ended up in hospital.
I was refered to a councilor to talk about my feelings and my grief for my dad,but struggled to open up to a completete stranger,i never went back after my first session.
Four years later it was still there,the grief,the hurt,the pain i just learned to deal with it and came to terms that this was going to be a part of my life forever.
Until one night it felt like the whole world had come crashing down around me.In 5 hours i lost a job i loved and a my girlfriend at the time,the cork popped,in my mind all i wanted was to be with my dad.
I walked and walked thinking about how i could do it,2 hours later i was still walking and breaking my heart,it was then i realised i needed help,i found the nearest phone box and called the police and told them my location and that i felt i was a danger to myself and to others,within minutes they picked up me up and took me to the local hospital where i agreed to go the local pshycriatric unit.
The next morning i awoke in a strange in bed in an unfamiliar room with a strange young blonde lady stood at the bottom of my bed (every young mans dream lol)
I suddenly realised where i was,panicked got dressed and some how,dont ask me how left and went home.
unbeknown to me my EX-girlfiend had spoken to my family and told them what state i had left her in and they had been searching for me with worry.
When my mother found out i was home she dragged me back to the unit and was sectioned for 3 weeks.
The sights and stories i saw and heard made me realise what a fool i had been,i had been an idiot,i was just grieving a kind of depression but nothing these guys were going through,but at least we were all in the right place,getting help,getting better.
3 weeks passed and i was discharged on a course of antideppresents,and within time i began to feel a lot better and began to come to terms with my fathers death,and realised that the people that are here with me now need me more than the people that are no longer with us.
15 years later im married to my beautiful wife emma and am blessed with two amazing children lucie and alfie.
If i didnt have the courage to make that phone call that night which ended up with me in hospital i really dont think i would be here now,writing this blog trying to help and bring this awful illness to light and to give suffers the courage to tell the ones they love or a doctor or friend what they are going through and get help.
I made that leap of courage by myself but i know the pain and hurt depression brings,you can feel so ashamed of the way you feel but dont stand up get help and live,i did and i love my life.
My motto now is live life,love life.
