I did not know I was suffering.

Like a fish that would never understand what water looks like, I had no idea that my experience of “normal” was poor mental health.

It was an honest mistake; mental health issues are the main narrative of my family story.

Alcoholism. Physical abuse. Suicide. PTSD. Depression. Anxiety. Survivor guilt. Chronic health conditions. Drug abuse. Perfectionism. Eating disorders. Sexual abuse.

It is the best thinking of those that raised me, loved me in their own way. It was the air I breathed and the water I swam in. How I understood life worked.

Life was a struggle. Happiness was earned, given only to those that deserved it. The more I thought about a problem, the better the opportunity to try and manage it.

I was responsible for myself and my life and had been since early childhood. Everything was my fault, and the guilt and shame of my failures was paralyzing. I had to know how to do it, and my inability to master every facet of life was personal. A reflection of my inner worth.

That was life, and the larger my responsibilities grew-marriage, family, career- the tighter my grip on control and the story of “how it had to look” became. The source of all my problems was outside myself- unlimited variables that always unbalanced my perfectly crafted equations for survival.

I had a secret.

Best described as an open book, a marked page that was always open in front of me.

One I refused to acknowledge.

It was my constant battle.

Front and center, no matter when I looked.

I would shut my eyes, avert my gaze, never daring to glance at a single letter.

My force of will holding back the tides.

Pretending that it was alright.

I was alright.

There was nothing to see here.

Everything was F I N E fine.

Until it was not.

My world got smaller and smaller.

The unhappiness was pervasive.

The stress un-survivable.

I was ready to go nuclear- divorce the husband, abandon them children, give up on life.

The lofty goal of happiness was never going to be mine, I could accept it was for everyone else, just not me.

I was willing to change because I had nothing left to lose.

That was the moment I got pointed in a different direction.

Shown my innocent misunderstanding.

The insight of innate health.

I was not broken in need of fixing.

And innate health is inside of me.

Underneath all the chronic overthinking, the truth of me is whole, perfect, and complete.

This was mind blowing.

Life altering.

World changing.

I was so certain I was broken and had spent a lifetime looking for the way to fix it. Fix me. Trying to make myself worthy. Atoning for my sins. Begging for forgiveness.

Because my secret was that I am an attempted suicide survivor. I am a person who has committed suicide five times- but never died. 

When asked what my heart would say about my five suicide attempts, this was the reply:

“Is it safe?

The question I finally found the courage to ask after 30 years of silence.

A prisoner in the dungeon of my own mind.

The crime was real.

Judge and jury finding myself guilty.

Sentenced to a lifetime of separation.

Cast out and abandoned.

A sinner.

If God did not want me, why would anyone else?

There was no salvation in the afterlife.

My desperate attempts to find home.

The peace I sought denied.

Instead, I wake up again to the hell of my own creation- never to be set free.

Where is the love in this creator called God?

The compassion and forgiveness?

I committed suicide.

But did not die.

What joy can be found when all hope is lost?”

There are no words to describe the disappointment of waking up after wanting to die and still being alive. Scared, alone, abandoned, confused, broken hearted. Having taken drastic action to end suffering but not getting the needed relief, resigned to the torture of reality. Added to it is the recognition that silence was now required. The stigma and prejudice against poor mental health is real, and not something to add to my burden.

But outside of the struggle, I had this knowing, in the depths of my soul, that life was never meant to be experienced like this. It could be different. If I could only find my way home. Out of the labyrinth of my own mind.

That book of secrets that demanded my attention, the required text for my life’s curriculum. It scared me. I was so very afraid of what it said. I could not allow myself to read it- to acknowledge the truth of it. The shame, guilt, embarrassment- the story I had created around my mental illness was frightening. I was certain the truth would be unforgivable. That my actions had created a separation between me and that which created me. And there was no coming back.

It was the most terrifying thing I have ever done. I was almost hysterical- tears streaming down my face, body shaking, completely nauseous. The insights, what I now saw about life, and the smallest sprouts of trust gave me the courage to open my eyes. Look and see what I had been hiding from for almost 30 years. 

A blank page.

There was nothing there. The words dissolving in the face of truth. A child’s shadow that held to the light melts away.

The best metaphor to help understand those with poor mental health is a body in the ocean.

Picture yourself adrift at sea. Lost in the middle of the ocean- no land in sight- captive to the ebb and flow of the tide. The sheer effort it takes to keep your head above water is exhausting. There is no safety or security, the waves come at you from all directions, never allowing for peace of mind. This is the normal experience of clear blue skies.

And then there is suicidal ideation.

A storm rolls in. Twenty-foot waves coming from every direction. Thunder, lightning, and pouring rain. The currents pulling you under and throwing you back up. No refuge- no safe harbor. The crashing waves beating you physically and emotionally until you can no longer stand it. Pushed past the limits of human endurance the suffering becomes too great. A single thought comes to mind. 

I could end my life.

And in that moment- everything stops.

The pause button gets pushed and the experience changes.

A single thought becomes a life vest- lifting you out of the storm of thought. The desperate feeling vanishes, attention now focused on the gift of insight. A single thought can change our entire experience of reality.

But there’s more.

The stories I had made up.

That I was alone, suffering my life in isolation.

I was wrong.

Completely wrong.

Life is not a struggle.

Happiness is our birthright.

The source of the experience lives in me.

Mind has always been present.

Even in the depths of poor mental health insight was available. The gifts of the understanding allowed for seeing the past with new eyes. Everything changed and yet stayed completely the same.

A fresh perspective on life.

Seeing what has always been but was too blinded by fear to recognize truth.

Mind, thought, and consciousness are a description of how life works. When I stopped misusing thought, trusted wisdom, the consciousness that is Kathryn is free to experience all the love and happiness life has to offer. 

Suicide entails so much fear.

The layers of meaning, the best thinking creates a very complex terrain to navigate. 

There is what happens.

And the story that gets made up about it.

Positive. Negative.

Completely dependent on the level of consciousness. Depth of understating.

The truth is always simple.

You are not alone.

Your creator would never ask you to end your life.

Nothing a human being can say or do will separate them from wisdom.

If I could say one thing to the person who has had the thought of suicide (ideation), or has acted on the thought (attempted suicide survivor), or has lost someone to suicide (survivor), it is this:

YOU ARE OKAY.

Human beings have thoughts. It is part of our design. Who you are-your value-has nothing to do with these thoughts. You did not create them. They do not define you. They are not there to tell you anything. And if you misunderstood and made them valuable- it’s alright. Mistakes are part of the design as well.

You are always okay.

Poor mental health will lead to a low level of consciousness. Negative thought creates negative feelings. Looking at the nature of thought, how thought works is the way out of the ocean and onto dry land.

It is true for every single person on the planet- and the secret to peace of mind. 

Ending your life is not the way home.

You are already there- connected, loved, wanted.

The ability to recognize it lives in YOU!