“Adam’s gone to Heaven”.

At 9 years old, those aren’t the words you’d ever expect to hear at around 10pm on a school night.

At 9 years old you’d never even think of losing your older brother.

On the 11th of August 2009, I heard these four words.. “Adam’s gone to Heaven”.

I don’t remember much at all from the rest of 2009, and the next 3 years were a blur.

I didn’t show how much I struggled because when the rest of the family were struggling we needed someone to be strong, right?

I took on that role, that someone was me.

It wasn’t until high school when I finally had a breakdown in front of a school teacher. There were kids telling the principal I was self harming in the toilets, and that’s when it was clear I needed help. I then took an overdose during year 8. This is what it took for the public health system to finally admit a “very distressed and unstable teen” into an acute psychiatric facility 5 hours away from home. It was the worst but best experience of my life.

But the story doesn’t end there. The thing they don’t tell you, is how to grow on the outside; away from the facilities and full time care.

I’ll admit, I was petrified to come back to reality because I didn’t have the protection of white walls, security doors, and bars around the outside area. They let me back into society because we thought I was better and stronger. Lets just say, I fell down again..and I fell down hard!

School was a major factor which led to me leaving in year 10. The self harm continued, I was smoking endlessly, and in all honesty, I didn’t give a shit what happened to me or what anyone thought of me. Everyone already thought I was a “freak”, so I stopped trying.

The idea of suicide became very real again; to the point it lead me to another week in an acute psychiatric facility, while they got my medication sorted. After this, I felt safe again.

The last year of school was the worst; multiple trips to emergency due to self harm, and handfuls of pills because I just didn’t give a fuck. I lost my sense of worth and want/need to be around.

Add five years and things have still been rough. I was in 2 abusive relationships that really fucked with me mentally.

March 2018 I tried to complete suicide.I just wanted it to end. It meant I was in control. As soon as I took all those pills, I was in a state of instant regret. I struggle now to remember doing this. I was in a blur. I didn’t know what I was doing, and that is the scary part about all of this. It was a major eye opener. I almost lost my battle to this illness due to an overdose that had me rushed to Canberra Hospital. This was the wake up I needed to really work on myself and receive all the support and help I needed and continue to need. I did this not only for myself, but for everyone else around me. It’s not only a struggle for me, but my friends and family rode it with me, every single step of the way. It affects them as much as it does me.

There is light on the other side. Remember, we all have our rough days; but it’s okay not to be okay.

Seek help from a loved one or your local GP.