Another, more different post

So. I’ve been hacking away at writing for the past couple of days. Started I think three different items, all on different topics, all basically boiling down to me complaining about various items I had encountered in either the news (or more precisely the comments to a news item) or in real life. My sort of goal with all of this is to try and get better at expressing things as complete items instead of just hanging complaints – and that’s where all my other writing fell apart. The complaints are there, but no solution or even resolution to the items.

Instead, this morning on my way to work I stopped into my favourite local coffee shop. I go in a couple of times a week and almost always get the same thing. When I walked in the woman behind the counter just immediately started getting my drink ready, greeted me with a smile and a cheery hello, and struck up a brief conversation. Nothing important, just standard coffee shop talk – weather, work week, etc. I realized I see her several times a week and still don’t know her name (curse my shyness!), but she brightens up my day every time I go in.

I usually tip pretty generously for my morning hot chocolate, but this time I decided to double up and just run it to a nearly 100% tip (while still making it easy to break into change and such). Her smile and heartfelt thank you were more than enough compensation, and I got to head off to work feeling a bit better about my day.

I guess my point is that it’s easy to complain, but it’s just as easy to be kind and generous and friendly. I thankfully can afford to give a bit extra to show my appreciation these days, but there have been times where I couldn’t and the same woman was exactly as friendly every time. So her being kind prompted me to be generous, which then made us both happier for the day. Maybe doesn’t work out like that every time, but does it ever really hurt to be nice?

A return to talking

So.

It's been several years since I last did any writing. Well, online writing anyhow. The things I write for myself don't count. The constant argument in my ridiculous brain is that there isn't really all that much for me to say that anyone would find interesting.

I've decided to ignore that argument, on the basis that my writing is still for me, it's just done somewhere that other people can look at it if they so choose.

So to begin, a quick summary. Situated in Northern Ontario. Work in financial information (I support accounting software, I have to explain it every time ...). Married, one kid, moderately numerous other assorted family members. That's the extreme basics. 

So, for my first post I've decided to put in a copy of something I wrote originally as a mental health help thing for myself, that then I decided to share in the hope it might help someone else as well.
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I’m going to prelude everything by saying I’m honestly not trying for attention or anything with this. Just need to get it out of myself and hope it can be helpful. I was originally going to do this as a video but I can’t get through it. It was hard enough to write.

So you’ve been warned.

In a little over a month I will be 1 year old. It seems like an odd statement, but there’s a point here.

On March 15, 2016 I tried to commit suicide by taking an overdose of prescription medications. There were a large number of things that influenced that choice, but one of the biggest factors was not talking to anyone about what was going on in my head and asking for help. I swallowed dozens of pills and lay down to sleep, expecting to never get up again. By all rights, I shouldn’t be here today.

But I am. I was lucky. My wife found me in time and saved me, calling an ambulance and keeping me awake until they arrived. I have no real memory of what went on between going to sleep and somewhere around the second day in the hospital. I’m told my blood pressure tanked, and that I was resentful of being there. Even once I get to a point where I can start to remember things, it’s all jagged memories – flashes of things, brief bursts of time that are clear and then more fog.

There’s a lot more to say about what went on, but it’s not what I have on my mind today.

Today I am thankful to be alive. Today I am thankful that I still have a family around me to support me through difficult times. Today I know that I am almost one full year into what I’ve come to realize is my second chance.

And today I want to be open about what happened to me in the hopes that it can help someone else.

If you’re struggling, fighting an uphill battle against your own brain, know that you are so far from alone. I couldn’t see it myself when I was buried in my own head, but there are people who care about what happens to you and would be devastated if you were gone. Talk to a family member, a friend, a co-worker – there is someone you know who is ready to help you. If you can’t think of anyone in your life that you trust to open up to, call a crisis support organization. They are there to help people just like you, and they will never, ever judge what you are going through.

If you have someone in your life who you think is in this sort of trouble, talk to them. Let them know how much they mean to you and how important they are in the world. Everyone adds something to the people around them; sometimes they just need to be reminded of how much they bring. Here’s some very useful information to have, just in case:

https://www.helpguide.org/articles/suicide-prevention/suicide-prevention-helping-someone-who-is-suicidal.htm

Hopefully, you never need to use that information. But I wish I’d had it earlier, and I’m glad I know it now.

I also wish I had some elegant way to end this, but I really don’t.