I also admired the way Scott’s friends and family talked about his death. At the time he died, I was right on the edge myself, and my depression and grief meshed into something I couldn’t understand. I had nightmares about him on that bridge, then hated myself for centring myself in a grief which “wasn’t mine” to feel. Scott put into words things I’d never been able to. I have attempted, multiple times, and my planning almost never stops. Right now, I’m okay. I had very early stage cancer and the treatment was a hysterectomy, which has allowed me 6-12 weeks of guilt free rest. Imagine a civilisation where we treated depression with rest, peace and space. Where we could tell someone they were allowed to stop and not be burdened by the relentless need to push forward and survive. Suicide prevention is important but it’s too late in the process of the suicidal mind and often the police are called (this happened to me) or you are sectioned so you can’t harm yourself (also happened to me). Neither helped. They only assured next time, I wouldn’t ask for help, because it’s scary in those places. I don’t want to lose my autonomy, I want more autonomy at those times, and when backed into a corner the only way to get peace seems to be to end it all. We need rest. We need to be unburdened. We need freedom from responsibility, to recalibrate. Once you get in that suicidal headspace, it’s so hard to get back out. All roads lead back to it. “I’m tired” - death will solve this. “I’m in debt” - death will solve this. “I hate myself, I’m ashamed, I don’t like my life, I can’t see a way out” - always suicide seems like the answer. I’m so grateful for this rest. The pain from the op is nothing compared to the 24/7 torment of surviving, going to work, when you beg every night not to wake up. I don’t know for sure that it’s an inevitability for me, but when Scott died it felt more like it would be. But with this rest, I’m starting find peace and enjoyment in things I hadn’t had the energy to enjoy for so long. Reading, sleeping, writing. I feel like I can see purpose again. Scott is a constant inspiration to me as an artist. I think he was a genius. I’m grateful for every single thing he gave me which brought me joy and wish he could’ve felt that same joy. His family and friends are amazing. What a legacy of kindness he has left for us. It truly is a communal heart and it’s still beating. Thinking of his family and loved ones today. 💙
Agreed that the lines are at best a specific acute crisis intervention mechanism; a skilled and empathetic responder can give someone who is spiraling a handhold to steady themselves. Sometimes that's all someone needs to get through a dangerous moment and eventually get on with their life. But for people with more persistent issues, the lines are inadequate to the task if they're the sole available support (which they too often are in this era of austerity, especially in remote regions). The way they interface with emergency services is also very tricky—as you say, getting the cops called on you when you're in crisis usually feels awful (when it isn’t outright dangerous). There is no perfect system that would prevent suicide entirely, but much of the despair in modern life goes back to material conditions, and our systems have majorly failed us in so many ways.
I'm sorry you have to carry on under such a weight. I am glad Scott's music has been a balm to you over the years.
Sorry, I wasn’t really talking about the helplines themselves, but when a person is in crisis and talks to family or friends, or makes a suicide attempt, they are suddenly treated like prisoners. I think the helplines are good! I think that the police are awful at handling it. I was dragged from a freezing river, hugging myself, asking what was happening and a police officer threatened to handcuff me. Then they mocked me all the way to the hospital. 5 police officers for someone in mental crisis! Not a danger to anyone else. One of them got angry waiting for the hospital to admit me and said, “You’re not supposed to be our problem.” Years and years ago, I was sectioned, and the mental health nurses treated me and everyone there terribly. I’m talking about that point of suicide prevention: the very last part. I think support lines are great. I’ve called them before, but not when I was that low. NHS crisis team in my area have a very bad reputation I can also vouch to. It makes you realise those avenues are a no go. You’d rather die than go through that cruelty on top of everything else. I’ve never spoken to a helpline person who wasn’t kind to me. 💙 but I am also way past the point of calling a helpline by the time I’m in the planning and trying stage, you know? We need something before that point, especially for the chronically suicidal. Sorry if I made that sound like a critique of helplines, it definitely wasn’t meant to be.
Not at all, I was agreeing with you. From what I understand of people who've been through the system, your experiences are common; and even when they are not as overtly cruel as the workers were in your case, there is still pretty frequently an indifference/impersonal nature to the interactions that's I'm sure partially to do with the sheer number of people who get shuttled from one end of the tube to the other. And the sort of people who choose to become police aren't typically overburdened with empathy for their fellows even before their training beats them into a thuggish mould.
I also admired the way Scott’s friends and family talked about his death. At the time he died, I was right on the edge myself, and my depression and grief meshed into something I couldn’t understand. I had nightmares about him on that bridge, then hated myself for centring myself in a grief which “wasn’t mine” to feel. Scott put into words things I’d never been able to. I have attempted, multiple times, and my planning almost never stops. Right now, I’m okay. I had very early stage cancer and the treatment was a hysterectomy, which has allowed me 6-12 weeks of guilt free rest. Imagine a civilisation where we treated depression with rest, peace and space. Where we could tell someone they were allowed to stop and not be burdened by the relentless need to push forward and survive. Suicide prevention is important but it’s too late in the process of the suicidal mind and often the police are called (this happened to me) or you are sectioned so you can’t harm yourself (also happened to me). Neither helped. They only assured next time, I wouldn’t ask for help, because it’s scary in those places. I don’t want to lose my autonomy, I want more autonomy at those times, and when backed into a corner the only way to get peace seems to be to end it all. We need rest. We need to be unburdened. We need freedom from responsibility, to recalibrate. Once you get in that suicidal headspace, it’s so hard to get back out. All roads lead back to it. “I’m tired” - death will solve this. “I’m in debt” - death will solve this. “I hate myself, I’m ashamed, I don’t like my life, I can’t see a way out” - always suicide seems like the answer. I’m so grateful for this rest. The pain from the op is nothing compared to the 24/7 torment of surviving, going to work, when you beg every night not to wake up. I don’t know for sure that it’s an inevitability for me, but when Scott died it felt more like it would be. But with this rest, I’m starting find peace and enjoyment in things I hadn’t had the energy to enjoy for so long. Reading, sleeping, writing. I feel like I can see purpose again. Scott is a constant inspiration to me as an artist. I think he was a genius. I’m grateful for every single thing he gave me which brought me joy and wish he could’ve felt that same joy. His family and friends are amazing. What a legacy of kindness he has left for us. It truly is a communal heart and it’s still beating. Thinking of his family and loved ones today. 💙
Agreed that the lines are at best a specific acute crisis intervention mechanism; a skilled and empathetic responder can give someone who is spiraling a handhold to steady themselves. Sometimes that's all someone needs to get through a dangerous moment and eventually get on with their life. But for people with more persistent issues, the lines are inadequate to the task if they're the sole available support (which they too often are in this era of austerity, especially in remote regions). The way they interface with emergency services is also very tricky—as you say, getting the cops called on you when you're in crisis usually feels awful (when it isn’t outright dangerous). There is no perfect system that would prevent suicide entirely, but much of the despair in modern life goes back to material conditions, and our systems have majorly failed us in so many ways.
I'm sorry you have to carry on under such a weight. I am glad Scott's music has been a balm to you over the years.
Sorry, I wasn’t really talking about the helplines themselves, but when a person is in crisis and talks to family or friends, or makes a suicide attempt, they are suddenly treated like prisoners. I think the helplines are good! I think that the police are awful at handling it. I was dragged from a freezing river, hugging myself, asking what was happening and a police officer threatened to handcuff me. Then they mocked me all the way to the hospital. 5 police officers for someone in mental crisis! Not a danger to anyone else. One of them got angry waiting for the hospital to admit me and said, “You’re not supposed to be our problem.” Years and years ago, I was sectioned, and the mental health nurses treated me and everyone there terribly. I’m talking about that point of suicide prevention: the very last part. I think support lines are great. I’ve called them before, but not when I was that low. NHS crisis team in my area have a very bad reputation I can also vouch to. It makes you realise those avenues are a no go. You’d rather die than go through that cruelty on top of everything else. I’ve never spoken to a helpline person who wasn’t kind to me. 💙 but I am also way past the point of calling a helpline by the time I’m in the planning and trying stage, you know? We need something before that point, especially for the chronically suicidal. Sorry if I made that sound like a critique of helplines, it definitely wasn’t meant to be.
Not at all, I was agreeing with you. From what I understand of people who've been through the system, your experiences are common; and even when they are not as overtly cruel as the workers were in your case, there is still pretty frequently an indifference/impersonal nature to the interactions that's I'm sure partially to do with the sheer number of people who get shuttled from one end of the tube to the other. And the sort of people who choose to become police aren't typically overburdened with empathy for their fellows even before their training beats them into a thuggish mould.