Don't Jump - Stay!
“The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die.” ― Juliette Lewis
The very first blogpost I wrote on here was about my military trauma and, recalling my near suicide attempt, here, in Petawawa. Yesterday, while out for a ride here, I came across a bridge that I’d never seen before; despite the fact that I’d lived here for over a year. On the bridge, there were a variety of ominous messages like; “don’t look behind you”, “we’re coming”, “run”, etc. Amongst those messages that, to be honest, made me hurry past the bridge and book it up the hill – feeling the need to look back despite the warning, but not looking back for long, when I did – there was one message that stuck out the most. A message of hope.
A message, written in spray paint on the railing of the bridge, facing and hovering above the rocky rapids, that read; “don’t jump”. To say this affected me a little is the greatest understatement I’ve ever penned. It affected me; greatly! Immensely! It was poignant, painful, heartbreaking, distressing and disturbing all at the same time. But also, was comforting, heartwarming, hopeful and reassuring. It was, regardless of the original author’s intent, a sign of hope and, a suggestion that whoever the reader was; and whatever insidious hopelessness they were experiencing and enduring in that particular moment, that there was someone, somewhere, who cared about their fate. Someone who, had taken the time to say what we all want to say but far too often don’t or, don’t have the chance to say, when someone we know and/or love/or both, is suffering and at their wits end. Don’t jump. I’m here. Step off that ledge. The very words that I needed to hear on that near fateful day, myself so many years ago. Here; in the same place those words were written.
After having seen this, I returned to the hotel room that I’ve been staying in for the duration of this life-altering and life-affirming trip, and penned another blog post; “All I Know So Far”, regarding my feelings about returning here. I didn’t, however, mention this particular signage I’d seen – that, I’d not even added to my cache of so many other photos taken (I returned today to get a photo to add to this blogpost), because of how momentously it HAD affected me. Because of how hard it had hit me. Because of the irony; of where it was written and where my closest, nearest, and most ‘almost successful’ attempt had happened. Here. But after having sat with it a bit, I couldn’t let it pass without a mention.
I can’t not write down how I feel about it; the sign, my near attempt, my many (too many to count, let alone mention) suicide interventions on others here, throughout my policing duties. And, how that made me feel; the hypocrisy, the hope, the hopelessness, the hope, the defeat, the hope, the pain, the hope. All of those feelings; because, when someone said they didn’t want to live, I not only could empathize but KNEW the feeling. All too well. All too often. Helping them see what they had that was worth continuing on for, helped me to see the same for myself. I never told them that. I never told anyone that; not until my first blog post, and then, the other day, during my assessment with the OSI clinic. But I felt it! By god, did I feel it! I felt it so deeply and so painfully that I could have been the person who, armed with a spray paint can, wrote that message of hope, myself on that bridge. I didn’t. But I could have. And had I done, I would have meant it; with every single fiber of my being!
Had I written that message, myself, it would have been across every single bridge, everywhere I’ve ever lived, travelled or visited.
When I was out for a ride at home last week, I saw a similar message, on the road way below a bridge. This particular message, whether or not it was intended as such, was also a potential message of hope for those standing on the precipice of total loss; of life. Their own; and all of those they left behind, had they not seen that message. Seen that message, and if even for a second (it only takes a second to end or save a life, by the way), they thought before they acted. That message said, “stay”. One word, “Stay”.
One word is often all it takes to save a life. One word, written. One word, typed. One word, spoken. One word; not written, not spoken, not typed that could have the polar opposite effect, if written. I’ve used so many words to help others in the past. I’ve written, spoken, typed so many words. And sometimes, all it took to save that one life, was one word. One word, like that word written on the road underneath that bridge, “stay”. Or, like the words written on this bridge; two words, “Don’t Jump”.
Now, I understand that not everyone feels capable of saving a life. Not everyone can consciously and intentionally intervene. Whether by lack of skillsets, confidence in their skills and capabilities, or lack of what they feel are the appropriate words. Words, that help someone suffering; trauma, depression, defeat throughout a crisis. Or, because of their own emotional, psychological and existential crises and/or burdens and stressors.
Sometimes, we don’t help, because we cannot take any more on, ourselves, without creating a bigger and more overwhelming burden on our own mental health. Sometimes, we don’t know how badly someone else is suffering. Sometimes, we don’t have the words, when we know that they are suffering. Sometimes, we don’t have to emotional strength to even say the words that we have within us. But if that is the case; that we cannot or do not consciously and intentionally help those in their moments of trauma and crisis, then the very least we can do, is not do them further harm. By our words, our actions or attitudes. We don’t realize how great an affect our words, actions and attitudes can have one others; sometimes, until it’s too late.
Sometimes, it’s the comments on social media. Sometimes, the words of a friend. Sometimes, it’s the attitudes and actions by loved ones. Sometimes, the words of bosses, clients, neighbours, acquaintances. Or, like in my case the other day, health practitioners that trigger us or exacerbate our suffering. Sometimes, what we need, is the polar opposite of what we’re given. And, sometimes, that’s the final straw for some of us. Not me. Not this time. This time is different. This time, I want to live.
I’m not free of emotional and psychological scars. I’m not free of stressors. And, I’m certainly not free from things, people, and places that trigger adverse reactions within me. But I am free of the desire to end my life. Because I want to live. I want to live; fully, completely and intentionally. Authentically. I want to eat life, while I still have a chance. Because I know what it’s like to be in a dark place, where you feel like you can’t go on. I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t want to live anymore because the pain feels like too much to endure. And, I know what it feels like when someone’s words, actions, and attitudes do harm to you. I know, because I’ve been there. I’ve lived it. But I survived.
I survived. Because I found reasons to keep going. Even in my darkest hours. I found reasons to not only live but to want to live. Reasons now, too many to mention but enough to keep me holding on. I survived. I survived, because someone said similar words to me; “stay”, “don’t jump”. And, because these words were spoken, written and typed to me, for me, I stayed. I didn’t jump/take actions that would have been fatal, had I taken them. I didn’t jump. I stayed because I realized that there was someone out there, who cared enough to say the words, when the words were needed the most.
Sometimes, we don’t get the chance to say these words to others. Sometimes, our words aren’t effective. Oftentimes, it’s because we don’t know that someone is suffering, until it’s too late. Or, because despite us trying our damnedest and using our most effective words to show how much we care, some people just can’t continue. Sometimes, we lose some. And those are the ones that haunt us. Those are the ones we grieve the loss of. Those are the ones who we remember, when; we don’t type, write or speak the words that we know will harm. Or, when we struggle to find the words to heal. Those are the ones we honour, when we spray paint words like; “don’t jump”, or “stay” on and under bridges. Because we know the pain that is caused when we don’t.
I know that pain. I’ve lived that pain, myself. I’ve helped others through that pain. I’ve been on the other end of the pain; almost caused it by leaving more than once. And, because of that, I’m writing this blog post. I’m writing this post; to honour those who have left us, in this way. To offer deep empathy for those who have experienced the pain caused by them leaving us this way. And, I’m writing this post for those who are suffering. Those who are in need of these words, right now.
Those in need of these words right now, please… please; don’t jump. Stay. You are worthy. You are needed. You are loved. The pain comes and goes. It’s not permanent. There is hope. There are people who care. There are those who have the words that you need to hear. Listen to them, please. Don’t jump. Stay!
