staceytalks-blog

[staceytalks-blog]

#WorldSuicidePreventionDay

Since today is #WorldSuicidePreventionDay, I’ve decided to share my story. One I’ve never told to any, only a select few. 

If you know anything about Northern Ireland, it’s that religion and politics go hand in hand. I live in a very rural area with two schools, the ‘catholic’ one and the ‘protestant’ one. My parents were in a ‘mixed marriage’, mum was a protestant and my dad was a catholic and they didn’t care about religion.

I was sent to the ‘protestant’ school because it was literally around the corner from my house. People immediately picked up on my surname, Murphy. “That’s a catholic name, you shouldn’t be here.” It was the 90s and the beginning of a horrible journey.

A lot of traumatic things happened to me around the ages of 4-5, not going to detail, but still to this day, I still have the flashbacks and anxiety. My school was tiny, 59 pupils in the entire school, 14 in my class and nobody talked to me. I was an easy target for older bullies, my parents did their best to force the teachers to do something, but they never did. 

I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety at age 6, I was also medicated for this, seeing therapists to help me cope with all my ‘bad thoughts.’ I remember walking to our local shop one day and seeing a car driving down the hill, I jumped in front of it and the guy slammed on his breaks so hard. He thought I tripped and was glad he saw me in time. 

I wasn’t. I wanted him to hit me, run me over and just kill me. I hated being alive. I always wished I never existed. (My parents were the most amazing people, they did their best to help me, but it was my own mind that was the problem)

I don’t remember that man, I never told anyone about that incident and I went to the shop, came home and watched TV as if nothing had happened.

The self harming started around 10. I would pick the gravel stones off of the wall of my house and...you know the rest. I just wanted to feel something. I was just numb, I felt like a robot.

If I thought primary school was horrible, secondary school was the worst. I went to an integrated school, where everyone was different and nobody cared about religion. I was just a shy person and sadly, that made me an easy target for a lot of people.

I was beaten up on the bus home, I was slapped in the face with a hard text book, called so many horrible names. I was kicked down the stairs and thankfully my bag saved my head hitting the tiled wall. The teachers tried their best, but telling on bullies made them 10x worse and the violence and verbal abuse got worse.

I was off school for a week and a rumour went around that I tried to kill myself. I never acknowledged it, people miming hanging themselves in front of me was hard to bare. I’m admitting it now, the rumours were true. I attempted suicide in my bathroom at age 14, because I couldn’t take all the hate, physical and mental abuse and wanted to be free from it all.

I remember drifting into unconscious when I heard muffled banging and screaming. My dad had broken the lock on our bathroom door and saved me. He, my mum and I just sat on the bathroom floor and hugged, all of us crying, even my dad who NEVER cried.

The doctors wanted to send me away to a place for kids/teens with mental illnesses, I didn’t want to go and neither did my parents. They always had my back when nobody else did.

Things were alright for a year or two, I was 16 and our formal was coming up, obviously nobody invited me so I decided to invite my childhood friend who went to a different school. I got a dress, my hair and make up done and when I sat at the table, nobody really recognised me. I never wore make up or my hair down, so people who never spoke a word to me in five years were telling me I looked pretty, one of the bullies approached me as I sat alone on a sofa and I was just waiting for some insult, he just said..”You look really nice.” and actually smiled at me.

Did I have to look ‘pretty’ in order to not be bullied anymore? 

Thankfully that year flew, I passed my GCSE’s (except maths and science), but my mental state was still bad. I’ve had a lot of deaths in my family, so when my granny, who lived with us passed away, I couldn’t cope.

I grabbed a bottle of my mums pills, no idea what they were for, downed what was left and lay on my bed waiting for my heart to finally stop beating. Well, I got sick and vomited most of the pills back up and that was a sign. I tried so hard to do it, but something always saved me.

That was when I was 18. I’m now almost 26 and haven’t tried anything since. I realised in that moment, I would be taking away my own pain, but I’d be the one hurting the people I loved and I couldn’t bare it.

Mentally, I’m fluctuating. I have good days and bad days but I have an amazing family, wonderful friends and even though life isn’t perfect. I could never leave them behind.

Never be afraid to reach out to ANYONE if you’re feeling as if your life isn’t worth it. You are worth EVERYTHING. You are NOT alone, the world is not against you, you’re battling a war inside your head and just know that you are strong, stronger than you ever believe. Your life is worth living, don’t give up. ❤️

[staceytalks-blog]

“Look for the girl with the broken smile..”