The Two Sides of Suicide

On the 15th March 2002 I came home from my Thursday night out with Newcastle University's LGBT group. I sat on my bed in halls (even in year three we were in halls), I clicked out in excess of 100 paracetamol pills and 50 ibuprofen. I sat on my bed, I grabbed as many of the pills as I could, I drank them down with whatever I had to hand. I sicked up a lot into a glass and then I went away

After sending a text:

"Oh dear"

That was all I sent to my friend that night who ultimately picked me up out of the Freeman Hospital in Newcastle the following day.

The paramedics tried everything that they knew - they tried shaking me, forcing tubes down my throat to engage my gagging mechanism, everything that they knew of to get a body to respond.

I apologised to everyone when I returned. We didn't speak about it. We forgot it.

Didn't we?

Did we?

We didn't mention it.

On the 24th October 2015 one of my closest friends took his life.

I am still unsure of the circumstances because his family have shut everything down. What I do know is that I got called by one of the other members of my football team that night to say that AJ had taken himself to sleep. I was out with other friends when I received the call and they made sure that I got home, because - let's face it - I was in no position to do so myself.

I couldn't even operate as an adult human the next day.

This was AJ. AJ was the clown. He bounced off ceilings. He had that smile that could make anyone smile. ANYONE. I'd been there for him when he had split with [boyfriend 1] and again with [boyfriend 2]. I met his twin. We all went ice skating and then for a meal. I made the very-funny-at-the-time joke about how they couldn't be twins because they didn't have the same tattoos

I was there when he buggered up his ankle and asked for his mum and then I remember asking him if he wanted his mum a few months later when he suffered a friction burn to the top of his head in the Leicester tournament. I remember him joshing me when I buggered up my ankle in similar circumstances. I remember us sharing hotel rooms, hotel beds, and just having the most brilliant times it was possible to have because we just both made each other laugh. He was the clown to my straight-man; and I was the set-up-guy to his punchline.

AJ was one of the most gorgeous people alive. He was so fun, he had so much energy.

And yet, somehow, that energy sapped him that he took his life, alone, in his flat in Manchester.

When I woke up in hospital I thought it was 7:30pm. The paramedics who had collected me from the student halls had tried to put my watch back on, but had done so upside down. When I said to the counsellors who spoke to me that "they worked late" they had no idea I didn't know it wasn't actually 2pm that afternoon.

This wasn't the first nor would it be the last that I tried to take myself.  My preference previously and, indeed, after was to tie plastic bags around my head. I got to the stage of frustration that I tied plastic bags around my head and then cable tied my hands behind my back so I couldn't rip the bags off. My strength proved too much for the cable ties I owned. I haven't tried this (or any other method) in around 5 years.

And this is what I mean by the two sides to suicide - not the "being on the live side" and the "being on the dead side". I mean on the "taking" and the ... for want of a better word ... "coping" side.

When you try to take yourself, you don't think. You're not in the right place. There is no logic. If you do think, it's always "they'll be better off without me". You think that it'll maybe take a few days and people will just go back to work doing what they do. (I'm sure at some stage I'll expand on this side of things).

But that's what you think - "it'll take a few days for them".

And that's what happens. It does just take a few days. It was the Monday. I went back to work, and I immersed myself in work.

Because I FUCKING HAD to.

And seriously, people telling you that "it'll get better" "it'll be ok" is ... I don't know, it's good, but it's not quite enough when you're in that place where really you need a little more than 140 characters of sympathy.

Because, let's face it - we've all lost someone, whether it's a grandma or uncle or a friend who got run over or AJ. And everyone goes to work the next day don't they? I have a team, they would be devastated if it was me, but they would work (after a day or two, it's not entirely a heartless business).

AJ was on my mind every minute of today. He'll be there on my mind for weeks. Yes, I go to work, but these things aren't exclusive. AJ will stay with me until I myself die.

One of the few things that has come of this: I have had so many people telling me they are there for me.

Everyone says that in the digital age, the personal touch has gone. But - perhaps - isn't it easier? I've had friends from around the country personally text me, message me, ring me to make sure I'm ok. Yes, my couple of posts have had a significant number of likes (I rarely post on Facebook) however I've had so many people phone me or directly message me or otherwise to make sure that I'm ok that it really does reaffirm that people are there for you.

I just wish that AJ knew that.

For AJ