Battling the Beast

So, my goal in writing this blog is to raise awareness about “suicidality,” which I define as the state of contemplating your own death by suicide. In the worst cases, it is a constant urge to kill oneself. I’m the first to admit that I’m no expert in anything but my own experience.

That said, I have a wealth and breadth of experience in fighting what I call the “Beast” – some days it shrieks, other days it’s a dull roar; either way, it’s been my constant companion since the sixth grade (and I’m almost 49).

I’m not someone who can sit on her high horse and say, “Hey, I beat the Beast; it’s all good now.” I can’t because right now, at this moment, I’m in the belly of the Beast – my suicidal ideation is off the charts. But what I CAN say is that I’ve learned that if I can outwait the Beast, I win the battle and am that much closer to winning the war.

The battles are painful and exhausting and can feel like some sadistic SOB is out there testing me. What I know now is that my brain is playing tricks on me. After all, on a good day, I can see the forest for the trees, and every leaf is more brilliant than the one before. But those are the good days, and right now the good days feel very far away, beyond my reach.

To be brutally honest, my bad days outnumber the good, but I’ve learned to cherish the good ones and to always remember that there ARE good days and they ARE worth fighting for. When I’m mired in the bad days, like I am now, however, it’s incredibly difficult (and that’s a HUGE understatement) to convince myself to live for the good ones.

So, how do I do it, you ask? How do I put the Beast back in its cage? By practicing. Practicing what, you ask? Well, several things. First, I do the next to impossible: I practice self-care. I play with my dogs, I write in my journal, I go for long walks, I listen to music, I catch up on a favorite, engaging series on Netflix, or I read a really engaging book (“engaging” is key, as I find it very difficult to concentrate to read or watch TV when I am in the depths of the Beast), or I watch a favorite movie whose dialogue I can recite by heart, so it doesn’t take much psychic energy to follow along.

Second, I find my happy place. I know, sounds impossible, right? When I’m doing well, I figure out what makes my heart happy. Each of us is unique. It could be cuddling with furkids (me) or for you it could be your human kids. It might be going out with friends. Is it traveling? Is it the beach or the mountains? Is it going to the symphony or the ballet or a museum? Is it having a spa day? We all have to commit these things to memory, so they are readily available when fighting the Beast – remember, it HATES that we all have things to live for. And the more things we love that we can shove in the Beast’s face, the better off we will be.

Third, I am honest in therapy and with my family and close friends when things are rough. If we don’t talk about the Beast, we are only fueling the flames – the Beast thrives on unshared suicidal ideation: don’t let it win. Talk–talk until blue in the face, if necessary – tell someone, ANYONE: a trusted friend or family member, a therapist, or a clergyperson. For God’s sake, DON’T go it alone. What I’m trying to say is that WE can do this.

We’ve got this. How do I know? Because I’m still alive 35 years after first fighting off the Beast. I am proof that it CAN be done. Trust me. Take this journey with me. What do you stand to lose, other than your life??

Remember, I am in the trenches with you, and I won’t give up on me – or you.