Four months since you left...

I wanted to start by thanking everybody who read the first post and for the wonderful response and outpouring of love and support which means so much to me. I never expected such a response and although this is cathartic for me, I also hope that it can help people both feeling like they want to end their life; and those people who have been affected by suicide.

I have so many thoughts running around my head about what I want to share with you – I want my posts to be real, to make a difference and honour Ben’s wishes (above), which brings a real pressure with it.

I also worry that it could have the opposite effect because this isn’t a good story – obviously because of the outcome; but more so because Ben did everything, and I mean everything in his power to fight; which is why I understand why he felt there was no other way.

This doesn’t mean that it’s right – I can’t stress that enough. Every person’s story is different.  People have things that have happened in their life that change them forever and can never be erased or fixed. That is why everybody must live by the rule to BE KIND – not just when a celebrity commits suicide or as another ‘catchphrase’ linked to mental health – it should be instilled in every single human being. You never know what someone is going through or has been through. I drum this into my children regularly and all parents should. They are the next generation that can make a difference and help immobilise this mental health pandemic we are in. Literally, kill it with kindness.

Ben and I had a fabulous life; the best - and just five weeks before Ben ended his life we had the most amazing break in Budapest – we were the happiest we had ever been – from buzzing around the streets together on electric scooters – to enjoying drinks and lovely food with his sister and brother in law – we even got busted for not paying the fare on a tram (not something we made a habit of but we jumped on a tram so not to miss it, sans ticket) – it was a dream break filled with laughter.

We had enjoyed Christmas – we had a fantastic New Year’s Eve, we had booked to go to New York & Iceland for my 40^th birthday and we were excitedly planning the trip – Ben was looking at the golden circle tour – googling what type of food we were going to eat and loved freaking me out about the food in Iceland – all the good stuff you do when you are excited about a trip away. But 28 days into the year that was so full of promise, our world came crashing down.

 This wasn’t the first time Ben had attempted suicide. But I knew when he went missing this time that it was going to be a different outcome…He had given me his word after the last attempt and for those that knew Ben, he was true to his word.  The previous times were a cry for help – which we got for him – not without a fight I might add – but that’s another story.

However, there are a couple of things that had happened which I feel had contributed to Ben feeling like he had no other option.

One being that my father had been in hospital on a section 3 after suffering a mental breakdown and the strain this put on me was immense as you can imagine. It put strain on Ben too – my dad was in the same ward that he had been on eight months previous…. under the same consultant and with the same staff looking after him. I was making the same journey, daily, to the place I had been visiting Ben for three months.

A massive part of depression is feeling like a burden to others around you. Ben regularly felt like a burden to me – that’s part of the illness that is the cruellest I think. That your brain makes you think this at the time when you need those people the most. But I made sure with everything I had in me that he knew that wasn’t the case. I loved him – unconditionally. And as I have said before – mental illness made up a small part of our relationship. I can honestly say hand on heart that I never ever thought he was a burden – not once – even when he went missing previously in November 2018.  My only thought was getting him the care he needed. It’s the illness that makes you think those things – it’s like a cancer in the brain – it makes you feel useless, shame, guilt and that the people around you deserve better than that. This is the reality of mental illness. But the reality also is that it isn’t true.

When my dad was having a really bad time and I was running off to the hospital one evening, I remember standing on the doorstep of our house with Ben and saying to him ‘no matter what I am going through with my dad – this doesn’t mean I take my eyes off you and you can still tell me how you are feeling’. You see we had that type of relationship where our communication was second to none and we were able to have those tough conversations. I was able to ask him if he felt suicidal if I felt he wasn’t quite himself – and there was one time when he told me he was, and I jumped into action putting what I needed to in place to protect him and get the help he needed.

However, I think the biggest factor to Ben leaving was that his medication had started to falter at the beginning of January. It had taken him a long time to get a diagnosis and get the right help, including the correct medication. He had endured time in hospital at the beginning of 2019 to get this mix right and had months of feeling ok. However, when they started to falter in January, he was unable to sleep, when ordinarily one of the meds he took would have knocked him out all night – so much so I always joked if someone broke in I’d have to protect him as he would be none the wiser. He was also starting to feel down. The effect from the tablets was lessening daily. That meant a cycle, he was all too familiar with, was about to begin…. Again.

I imagine people reading who haven’t dealt with someone with mental health problems would think, well why don’t you just change the medication. But that process isn’t easy. And that’s the cycle I refer to. Ben had been through it on numerous occasions and he was dog tired and he didn’t have the energy to put himself through the withdrawal of one medication and ‘trying’ another to see if it worked. He had been on this rollercoaster so many times before and it’s horrific – for all involved. However, without a second thought, I would have been by his side and we could have got through it again – together - like we did before.

So, you see, this is why I understand why he did what he did. When I say he was a fighter, I feel like I could burst with pride at the fight he put up. I couldn’t have got up after being knocked down as many times as he did – most people wouldn’t have been able to – he was super human for so long. Fighting every single day. Yet he kept trying – hoping to find the magic cure within the medication and numerous therapies he had endured.

As I’ve said already in this post – suicide isn’t the answer and I get that what I’ve written comes with mixed messages. But I do understand why he did what he did and having spoken to a few people over the last couple of weeks who have lost people to suicide, I know that makes me lucky – because there are people out there who don’t have the answers like I do. They didn’t have a diary sent to them from their loved one, with their thoughts and feelings up until the day they ended their life. I do. Ben did that for me because of how much he loved me, and he knew I would need that to move forward. I have no questions left unanswered. Not one.

And that is why, I am the unluckiest lucky person…

What a mental health illness looks like...

All these pictures were taken in the last three months of Ben's life...

www.mind.org.uk

www.calmzone.net

www.samaritans.org

www.mentalhealth.org.uk

I'll never stop loving you Ben x

11.11.81 - 28.01.20