Burdens of help

 A number of years ago I lost a friend to suicide. I had no idea she was struggling that much, and I’ll never forgive myself that I wasn’t there for her like she had been for me. Her death is one of the things that has spurred me on to be a mental health campaigner and someone who will always try and be there for everyone who needs it.

However, it is also worth noting that I too have had suicidal thoughts, and given my illness, will quite often resort to those thoughts, albeit fleetingly, when I have perceived myself as doing wrong. I’m not proud of that, especially as I have such a good support network. Whether people don’t realise that or not, I’m unsure, but when I have offered crisis help to others, only to be accused of supporting hate, and putting other peoples mental health at risk, it really affects me.

Not in a way where I get angry, vent and move on, despite appearances. I carry that burden with me. 

To find out that I have let somebody down who needed me, despite helping others, is the most horrible feeling. I apologise profusely but it falls on deaf ears. I’m then accused of contributing to a suicide attempt. This really hurt. If my own worst enemy was going to attempt suicide, I would do anything in my power to talk them out of it. Being labelled as someone who would enable self harm or a mental illness, has taken its toll. 

I bear that person no malice, they’re quite clearly angry and hurt, but it’s nothing I can change. I am just a mental health volunteer, facing my own demons on a daily basis, who will never forgive himself for not helping someone he could have.

Peace 💚

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