Page 3: Losing Grip
“After two-thousand days of living with a malfunctioning system and ever-increasing suffering, desperation finally overpowered my will to survive and pulled me towards the easiest way out. My foot hit the accelerator with full force, my hands turned the steering wheel, and there I was, alone, in the cold emptiness of a dark winters night on a direct course to my own death.”
Losing Grip
Page 3 - January 2018
Part 1 of 2
Ten years ago, I was in peak physical fitness. I surfed for the thrill, ran cross country for the freedom, swam in the ocean for fun and hiked for inspiration. I worked hard, crammed my leisure time with activities, then an unexplainable illness began to crush my capability. I became so physically and mentally drained that simple tasks became significant challenges. Within fourteen months, I went from working three jobs and consistently reaching ninety to a hundred hours a week to frequently failing to fulfil nine hours a week while working as a self-employed gardener.
Outside of those insufficient, yet exhausting hours of work, I barely had enough energy left to sustain myself. I experienced countless days in which it became a battle to prepare a meal, take a shower or even summon the energy to lift my hands long enough to type a text message. At times, I’d be near paralysed, barely able to move at all for hours at a time. Intense mental exhaustion caused me to forget common words, struggle to structure sentences and fail to remember the last sentence I’d said. It wasn’t rare for my short-term memory to be a matter of mere seconds. Confusion became common, simple conversation frequently became too demanding.
I masked my suffering from society, but public performances always became private punishments. Discomfort and pain became frequent companions, and life became a battle to prevent depression from dominating my thoughts. I fought to retain the life I’d created, the gardening business I’d established, but I became progressively weaker and gradually poorer. I slept on the side of the road and in public carparks in a van in southwest England for years. It was the last chance I had left to retain my grip on financial independence and hang onto the life I’d worked hard to create.
Part 2 of 2
Eventually, disease destroyed the life I once lived. After a relentless six-year battle, I was losing the fight against symptomatic depression, and I was on the verge of a breakdown, near-daily. I had to let go of everything before I lost my grip on life itself. I know, it sounds dramatic. But when you find yourself speeding on a main road and about to drive into a concrete bridge to take your own life, you realise it really was. The first step came without thought, the last became a thought to fight.
I’d forced myself to the extremes of my limits for so long that I’d become too habituated to suffering and blinded myself to the facts. All those challenges I’d fought through, mentally, emotionally, physically, I wasn’t making progress, it was the exact opposite. I was creating a soul choking amalgamation of darkness and quiet condensed rage. Deep despair and immense frustration had been silently mutating like malignant cells deep inside my body for years.
After two-thousand days of living with a malfunctioning system and ever-increasing suffering, desperation finally overpowered my will to survive and pulled me towards the easiest way out. My foot hit the accelerator with full force, my hands turned the steering wheel, and there I was, alone, in the cold emptiness of a dark winters night on a direct course to my own death. With barely a second before impact, flashbacks of family ripped me back to reality and I veered back onto the soulless grey tarmac, body shaking, breath broken, heart in throat. Love had wrenched me back from the brink. The scary thing is, despite the constant fight to quieten dark thoughts in the years leading up to this, I never saw it coming. I didn’t wake up that morning wanting to end my life. In that moment, I knew…
Continued in next update.
Thank you for reading.
With warmth,
Davey
Important: Please reach out to someone if you’re feeling overwhelmed or are suffering depression. If you’re not able to speak with friends or family, please contact mental health professionals. There are many supportive associations who provide professional, respectful and compassionate care.