The act of suicide, and the energy consumed throughout the mental health battle leading to and undertaking the act itself, requires a near unfathomable and inexplicable combination of courage and cowardice.

For a huge portion of my existence, I accepted that death by suicide for me was inevitable. It was never a question of if, just when.

It has taken decades for me to realise that if a portion of that strength was applied to being my own best friend, my nurturer, enforcing boundaries, releasing expectation, applying empathy, compassion, understanding and ultimately acceptance, then this thing called life can not only be bearable, it can also be a more enjoyable and peaceful journey than I dared previously to imagine.

In realising that, during my moments of abuse, pain, humiliation, degradation, defeat, worthlessness, heartache and isolation, my sole surviving mechanism to endure all situations has been my perspective. It occurred to me that this same mechanism could be utilised to create a life that I wanted rather than enduring an existence.

Although I have banished suicidal ideation from my life, it has unfortunately not taken away the opportunity to bear witness to the ever-increasing prevalence and consequential impacts of suicide in both my immediate and wider community.