We are in an era of sharing major life events on our social media feeds. We all have different intentions in what we share and how we respond. I had my coming out about my sexual orientation. Then I had my coming out about my mental health crisis. When you are going through something, you lose some people along the way. I came out about my suicide attempt the best way I knew how. I put a statement out on the internet. I felt like I had a point to prove. In my eyes, this was no different from coming out about a physical ailment. This was me announcing my rebirth as I embarked on a road to recovery.
A lot of people were silent. The thing about silence is that it speaks volumes. There are people in my life who have been quiet ever since. We haven’t spoken again. Maybe I could have been more tactful. Not everyone knows how to respond to something like that. Ultimately, my words were read, and that was what I wanted.
It has been four years since my first—and last—suicide attempt. This was the turning point in my story. I consider that day to be the day my old life ended, and my new one began.
When I did this, I did not want my life to end. I wanted life as I knew it to end. I wanted my misery and uncertainty to stop. To stop living altogether was never the intended outcome.
Leading up to it, I was existing rather than living. The way I see it, I was like a character on a show that the writers ran out of ideas for. I experienced what is considered a quarter-life crisis. As with many twenty-somethings, I did not have it all figured out. I had finished my higher education, but success in other ways eluded me. I got by any way I could while feeling inadequate compared to my peers. Comparison truly is the thief of joy. I watched the lives of other people unfold in carefully curated posts. When would life start to happen for me, I wondered. It felt like I was missing out and time was passing me by. I did not have news to share, like an engagement or a home purchase.
While I recovered from my attempt, the world around me went into quarantine due to a pandemic. The walls between others and I began to crumble. I realized a lot of us were going through much more than the pretty pictures we painted online. A lot of people started showing the real sides of themselves. This encouraged me to do the same.
In the past, I tried to shoehorn myself into places where I did not fit. There was a time when I thought I had found my people. A friend breakup can be just as painful as a romantic one. I learned this lesson too many times. It took several tries to grow from it. Coming out on the other side of a suicide attempt gave me the courage to break up with situations that did not foster growth.
This four-year journey has taught me that life is not always a highlight reel. I have learned that there are some people who I cannot take with me. I spent so much time worrying about those who left that I forgot about the people who have stayed through all my missteps. I do not take that for granted. I also take accountability in the areas where I fell short. I have been fostering healthy conversations. To build myself up, I had to learn how to build up others. At this point in my journey, I feel comfortable allowing my flaws to show through while not being defined by them. Perhaps for the first time, I am starting to let the world see me as I am, comfortable in my own skin.
Whatever you are facing, there is always hope. And we will hold on to hope until you’re able to grasp it yourself. If you’re thinking about suicide, we encourage you to use TWLOHA’s FIND HELP Tool to locate professional help and to read more stories like this one here. If you reside outside of the US, please browse our growing International Resources database. You can also text TWLOHA to 741741 to be connected for free, 24/7 to a trained Crisis Text Line counselor.
Heather Benda
September is Suicide prevention month and today is national suicide prevention day… I am trying to share something about suicide every day…. Because that’s all I can do now.
13 years ago, My life completely changed and shattered.
I debated on sharing this or not… But if I can prevent even one suicide it would be worth it. So here it is.
(🚨Trigger warning‼️ please do not read of you are not prepared🚨)
To say my brother and I were close is an understatement… We always did everything together.
My brother suffered silently for years as a preteen and a teenager. I knew my brother wrote songs and poems and letters. I didn’t want to invade his privacy.. but I definitely was always worried about him and always asked him if he was doing okay and how he was feeling. When he was in 8th grade…he broke down and told me how he was feeling. He told me he had attempted multiple times from slitting his wrists to hanging himself with a tie. He made me promise to never tell my mom and dad. I fought with him all night and asked him to promise me he wouldn’t do that again. He never promised me. I was young and didn’t know anything about suicide….so I didn’t say anything to my parents.
I was responsible for taking my brother to school. One morning I was getting ready to leave the house and he was still in bed. I yelled at him to get up and he didn’t move. I was upset and yelled “well I’m not getting in trouble because you won’t get up” and I left for school and I believe I called my mom at that point but I can’t remember…
I was sitting in math class (my last class of the day) and I had a really bad feeling like something wasn’t right…I don’t know how to explain it but I just knew something was wrong. Little did I know my mom was in the school parking lot waiting for me and told me that my brother had over dosed and was in the hospital. I always thought he was open with me (which he was, so I didn’t worry because I thought he’d say something) well he never told me anything again about how he felt after that. He was in and out of counseling and the hospital. We moved to Utah and he admitted himself to the hospital. He met some amazing friends in the hospital and things looked like they were getting better for him..
A few months later, only days after his 21st birthday… just when I thought he was doing better… He completed suicide.
I wish I would have read his things. I wish I would have told my parents sooner. I would rather him be mad at me for invading his privacy, than not here at all.
Depression is silent. Mental Health issues are SILENT. We have to be looking for the signs to see them. If you have a feeling that someone you love is suffering SAY/DO SOMETHING because they aren’t going to directly say it to you. Invade their space to save their life. I was told many things after my brothers completion that were signs.
Suicide doesn’t discriminate. I NEVER thought my brother would complete suicide.
I have asked myself a million times “why wasn’t my love enough to keep him here?” And I saw a response to that question saying “Perhaps your love kept him here longer”….
BUT LOVE DOESN’T SAVE US.
Mental Heath treatment will, but we have to break the stigma. It’s okay not to be okay. And it’s okay to talk about it.
Sorry for the long post but thank you for reading. 💙💜
#mentalhealthawareness
TWLOHA
We are so sorry for your loss, Heather. Thank you for sharing your truth with us, for being vulnerable and honest. It is our honesty that invites others to be honest about hard things as well.
Bob Morgan
What a powerful message. Thank you for having the courage to share it.