Nadya in Berlin with graffiti

I think about dying every day

Please Note: If you are experiencing suicidal thoughts, then the following post could potentially be a trigger for them. Don’t read on and please consider contacting the Samaritans for help on 116 123. There’s always a way out, and often talking about it, free from judgement, can help.

I think about dying every day.

And while reading this, you may struggle to be comfortable with that, I guess I finally am.

A month ago I properly addressed this thought process, realising that no matter how happy I am I’ll never fully be free of these thoughts.

I was in Berlin, full of a nasty cold, but surrounded by some of the best sights, smells (arguably I couldn’t smell), company and culture in Europe but a thought entered my mind.

Nadya in Berlin with graffiti

In Berlin, I addressed an issue.

I was worrying about money and what I was going to be returning back home to, and then the question…

“Would everything be better/easier if I wasn’t around any more?”


What may seem like a pretty serious and shady thought to you, is actually pretty normal for me.

It’s a harsh reality that each day I can guarantee that I will wonder whether I‘d be better off not living anymore and it can be triggered by any number of things from responsibilities such as money, bills and workload right through to returning from a happy place back home.

Find your happy place

I can be in the most serene and happiest of surroundings and yet still the thought appears.

Some days it’ll hook me more than others, and it’ll feel like I’ve been slapped in the face with sadness, and other days I just let it pass.

After more than a decade of feeling it, thinking it and hearing it, I’ve learnt to give it a place in my passing thought bubble and for some reason it doesn’t hook me as much as it used to.

Either that or I’ve just made it part of my routine.


Almost a decade ago, a time before I remember explicitly thinking these thoughts every day, toward the back end of 2009, I made an attempt to take my life.

I always have and will still stand firm that it was not “me” who did it, and I did not feel in control.

I still struggle to make sense of my thought process back then and that troubles me. I was on a very high dosage of a new prescription of antidepressants, I was highly intoxicated and I was desperately trying to make sense of a lot of things – many of which seem so trivial right now.

I scared myself, my family and my closest friends and believe it or not, for how open and frank I can be, we have never really talked about it – not that it’s the perfect after dinner conversation or anything – but it’s avoided.

I guess it’s something people tend to save for the therapists and counsellors, but in all honesty I’ve not benefitted the most from the self-assessment barometers which claim to understand my level of risk, I’ve benefit most from talking to others around me – and a lot of the time they haven’t been close friends – but they’ve gone on to become them.

Suicide is a word people don’t really like to say. Like the “Voldemort” of real life, it makes people uncomfortable –  but what I’m trying to say, is that it shouldn’t.

It takes time

It may seem quite easy for someone as extroverted as me to talk about it, but it’s not been an easy journey getting to this point.

I mean, a decade later I’m away from the negative influences on my confidence, I’m encountering new people and many of whom I’ve seen suffer in silence.

But even though I’m no longer on prescription medication, my responsibilities have got bigger and a lot of things about life make much less sense than they did back then, that question…

“Would everything be better/easier if I wasn’t around any more?”

…is still there and I’m comfortable with that for now.

The daily thought of dying has gone from feeling like battling the uncontrollable impulse to sneeze, to resisting the urge to scratch and now it’s just a small scar I can reveal when I want to prove to others that even though it won’t ever go away, you can live with it.


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