Suicide – A Personal Encounter With Life and Death

Suicide. It’s a heavy topic. While it is extremely important to talk about, it can be a delicate conversation to have.

[First off, if you or a loved one is having suicidal thoughts or intentions, please text or call 988 for help from the suicide hotline. More importantly talk to someone. Anyone. And remember that you are important and loved.]

This post is one that I know I have needed to write for a while. Part of me has been pushing it off for worry that it is too sensitive a topic to share. Part of myself feeling like it is not my story to share as I was not the one who personally battled suicidal thoughts and intentions. Another part of me is just not knowing how to approach it. But that’s one of the biggest problems with sensitive topics. They need written and shared. There really is not enough conversation about mental health, especially about suicide. Even less from the perspective of loved ones during the struggle.

(Full disclosure, my personal experience that I am about to share has been discussed between my partner and I and shared prior to posting.)

My partner had a suicide attempt and several suicidal intentions throughout the time frame of our relationship. There are memories of these difficult times that seem a little fuzzy from the blur of events and others that are clear and unforgettable. I mostly remember feeling a wide mix of emotions that I wasn’t really sure how to process. Let alone if I even was actually processing everything that happened, rather than just powering into “caretaker” mode. Which tends to be my default.

It was several days into my partner’s relapse. She had been engaging in self harm behaviors when I was not present at the house and using alcohol as a coping skill to ease her mind from her dark thoughts. I knew my partner was going through a difficult time. I was relentlessly trying my best to balance work, and pet sitting, and being present and supportive as a partner, and managing the house and pets, etc, etc. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it was a lot to balance on one person’s plate. But I love Briana more than anything and would do anything she needed to help get her through alive.

Some would argue that it is unfair to have someone take on so much. But to me, I would rather be tired and worn out with a partner who was still alive, than to risk losing her forever.

What’s not discussed enough is the delicate dance that happens in a relationship when one partner is going through a dark mental health battle. Some days it was necessary for me to have the caretaker hat on to help my partner. While other days, I just needed to take care of myself. This dance of give, take, and provide is a gray area that has no instructions. No right or wrong answer. But it is also loaded with feelings of confusion, sadness, guilt, and fear that carry their own heavy weight.

One day, my partner contacted me at work to say that she was not in a good mental state and needed me to come home. She had engaged in self harm behaviors and not so wise coping choices. My partner was not only battling her own dark thoughts, but also being overloaded with feelings of shame and guilt because she felt she wasn’t showing up as a partner and putting me through a difficult time. She also felt as though she had failed and let me down for engaging in self harm which only spiraled the dark thoughts she was already having.

We had a long discussion in the kitchen about what she was going through. After our conversation, she stepped away into the bathroom. I assumed that she needed a moment to process everything and have some space. When some time had passed and she hadn’t returned, I decided to go check on her. 

She had locked herself in the bathroom with a sharp object and an intention to end it all.

Distraught I begged her to open the door. She didn’t want to comply and so I began to bang on it. In that moment I was ready to break the door down. The few seconds that had lapsed felt like hours. When finally, she opened it. I peeled the sharp object from her hands and just held her as she cried.

I thought the situation had dissolved but another wave of shame and spiraled dark thoughts led her to try and trap herself in the bathroom again. We wrestled in the doorway – a literal life and death side of the door. I wound up shoving her to the side, almost knocking her to the floor. Grabbed her by the arm, got my car keys, and took us out of the house.

I didn’t know what to do. I felt angry and guilty that I had to resort to getting physical with her to keep her from hurting herself. Frustrated that I didn’t have an answer to make things better or protect her. I felt sad that she was struggling with her mental health so much so that she was willing to end it while I was home. I just didn’t know what to do.

No one had an answer. No one was able to tell me how to make things better. Nothing on google could present a solution. I felt as though we were both sinking, and I knew we were in a situation that the two of us could no longer handle alone at home.

We drove with no destination for about 20 minutes while she sat silently in the passenger seat. I needed a moment to think, breathe, process, and to get out of the house. And I knew she did too. She eventually broke the silence by asking if I was mad at her. The thing is, I wasn’t. I just knew we needed to figure out a new plan.

Our new plan entailed a call to her therapist, trip to the ER for a safe overnight space, admittance to the mental health unit with 1 hour visits a day, release from said unit and admittance to residential care program. After a long period of time, it would turn into outpatient care and eventually normal life at home.

Needless to say, it was a whirlwind. But it was necessary and something that was vital to Briana recovering AND for me to take care of myself. I am grateful that throughout our delicate mental health dance, our relationship with each other has remained strong and continues to grow. I am lucky to have a partner who considers me as an individual person and knows my feelings and needs are just as important as hers. Together we support each other.

The reason I am sharing this story is help raise awareness.

Even though the ending of this story is a happy one, not all times are sunshine and rainbows. The mental health dance is not for all relationships. For some, it is too much. It takes a special kind of person AND relationship to be able to get through tough situations.

I hope this post serves as a reminder that it is okay to not have all the answers and solutions. Sometimes mental health just f*cking sucks and it is ok to struggle. It is ok to need help. It is also ok to step away when you need to protect yourself because you are important too. 

I don’t have all the answers. But to all the caretakers, loved ones, family members, friends, fiancés, husbands, and wives to all those who are struggling with suicide and mental health – I hope you know that you are loved and valued and important too. I hope that my story inspires you to share your own and help to end the stigma around mental health and suicide. 

My chats and email are always open. Anyone can send a message if they need someone to talk to. In the meantime, remember that I love you and you should love you too.