I’m not sure when it first began, it was sometime after the breakdown of my marriage – something still fresh enough to become part of the darkness but still hazy in my memory, as is all too common with depression it sneaks in without you noticing? Like drinking ice cold gin and tonic on a hot day, you get drunk from the legs up and before you can get a hold on it it’s far too late and you find yourself mumbling something semi sarcastic before heading home without saying goodbye, this is known as “the body swerve” now looking back, this was a huge red flag, the booze. But I’m not here to tell you about drinking, they’re your demons or angels depending on what you require, so… the body swerve became the way to switch off when the conversation got too close for comfort, I found myself using this more and more even when not hammered. It’s actually a lot harder than you think to be pretend pissed to avoid rational answers to hard questions, I believe I could actually be a qualified politician after the skills I’ve gained in avoidance.
My social circle decreased significantly but my book of excuses for missing human contact grew impressively, at a later point I would pride myself on this skill, and if im honest actually comes in handy with work meetings and colleague nights out? (Who knew all of this was expertly preparing me for Covid lockdown?) by the time I felt alone properly, my curtains hadn’t been opened in weeks, my phone was on silent and my door was never answered. I remember thinking after crying during every episode of a master chef marathon maybe there was a problem here? But there couldn’t be could there? I’m a tattooed hairy biker?
Over the next few months I found it hard to connect with society, my new relationship was suffering badly, my girlfriend was frustrated and could clearly see my castle was crumbling, but I just didn’t see it.
Now let me tell you the real story, and the true start to this episode, there were darker forces in play, recreational drug use masked an awful lot of symptoms and heavy drinking took care of the rest, now this is commonly frowned upon especially in cases of suicidal depression, in-fact it’s a common attribute to the diagnosis, I didn’t feel this at all, it was actually a delicious combination of the two that caused me to fail in my first attempt at suicide, yes they had given me the clouding of judgement to act out my demise but also rendered me utterly useless to see it through, I’m a firm believer in fate and karma? Or maybe it was sheer luck? But this is my story and how I failed attempt one.
Before the overdose, I had been shut off from all the world except work, where I was a prolific overachiever, all my focus was on work. The downside to this was I had zero interest in my life, the moment I crept back into this fortress of a flat I was renting, I would sink ever deeper into my own psyche, and yeah it was a very bleak place (if you’ve ever visited Coventry you may have an idea of a starting place for the depth of this) I couldn’t sleep without perfecting the perfect suicide in my head, I would pride myself on this technique and rerun it over and over in my head, to make sure there were no gaps or flaws in my plan, this made me feel invincible! That no matter what else occurred I had that power just waiting to be used! I was the faltering king of my ruined castle, and yet I loved it.