Stories of Hope

“Being a mountaineer, I’ve lived some of the most gratifying moments of my life up in the highest peaks in the world. One of those moments was when, in the spring of 2016, I reached the summit of Mount Everest to support The Live Love Laugh Foundation and raise awareness about mental health. The message we brought to the top of the world: You are not alone. 
 It was a very proud moment for me as I knew the importance of mental health awareness. Most importantly, I knew how getting the right support from friends and family, as well as from professionals in the field, could make all the difference in someone’s outcome. In 2009 I would have told anyone that my cousin Daniel was the most cheerful person in my family. So it was a great shock when he took his life after he found out that he was cheated on. He kept quiet about how deeply this experience had affected him. He did not open up to family members nor did he reach out to a professional who could offer help. I wish I knew back then what I know now, that I didn’t have to wait for him to ask for help. I should have talked to him and asked him if he was alright. To offer help and to listen to him without any judgment. I’ll forever live with the thought that I could have made a difference. We can’t change the past, but we can change the future.”

Around the time I was 25 years old and my brother was 23, he began experiencing anxiety. We had lived what I believe was the perfect youth, with a comfortable life, and loving, caring parents. I'm ashamed to say that, initially, I was not as supportive about his issues as I should have been because it surprised me that my brother was suffering despite the great life we had! Due to the lesson learned from my cousin not seeking help, I became much more involved with my brother. I made sure he felt supported and had access to medical professionals whenever he needed it. Thanks to this, my brother has healed into a genuinely happy person, raising two wonderful little girls and has a great relationship with his wife.

“My name is Deepesh Soni, I am a biologist, a teacher, and an entrepreneur. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that one day I would be affected by depression. At the start of 2020, I was diagnosed with mild depression, but I chose to ignore it; however, things started to deteriorate rapidly, and in March 2020, I was diagnosed with major clinical depression with suicidal ideation. At this time, I realised that I needed some professional help, and I was put on antidepressants by my doctor. There were many reasons for my depression, one of which was family issues. My wife is Russian, and due to the difference in our cultures, we have had a clash of views.

The antidepressants helped me, and I started to feel better; however, I was badly impacted by the side effects, and I stopped taking these medications cold turkey. But it was a wrong decision because I experienced severe depression and panic attack episodes, and I became suicidal once more. On September 10th, 2021, I had a failed suicide attempt, but I was taken to the ER immediately by my colleagues, and I was just saved after over 24 hours of being unconscious.

I have not yet fully recovered from depression, anxiety, and panic attacks, and I continue to take the medications prescribed by my doctor every single day. And I do sometimes feel suicidal, but I ensure that I reach out for help. I hope to completely get out of this vicious cycle of depression soon, and live a happy life. For anyone going through similar challenges, I'd like to say that ‘It's okay to ask for help!’ Because there’s hope, even when your mind tells you there isn’t.”

“In school, I always thought that I was the best in everything. I had everything anyone would have wanted at that age; school captain, best in sports, best in extracurriculars, teacher favourite and good in studies. When I stepped out of school, that’s when I realised that life is much more than just the four walls of my classroom. There was so much competition, talent and a rush in everyone’s eyes. I got scared! I started doubting myself. Did my BBA because others were doing it. Started a regular job because others were doing it. I started going into a state where things just didn’t make any sense to me anymore. The clocks were ticking, but I wasn’t moving. Or maybe only my body was. Nothing felt good. Demotivated. Broken. Suffocated. And then the worst happened, I lost my job during the Pandemic. No salary, no work and with each passing day, the loneliness started hitting hard. And that’s when I started writing on topics that could help others in the same situation as I was in! The purpose was to let the people out there know that THEY AREN’T ALONE! I started talking about mental health and topics that people still think are taboo in society. You know, when you are the one who has gone through things in life, you can talk about it more strongly. That’s exactly what happened. People started texting me that they felt calm after going through the content I posted. They felt better knowing that someone else was in the same boat as them. And with all this, if I am making a difference in even one person’s life, I think I have played my part well. Lately, I have been in a better place now. I am a creator on Instagram, I run a small business, and I am a football coach by profession. Today when I write this, I can openly say that I know I am not the best in everything and that there are people much more talented than me. But today, I know that if I do the things I love with full faith and trust, I will surely be the best in the coming few years. It’s just the start!”

“18 years ago, when I delivered a baby girl, my husband & I were excited to be parents. Post-delivery, I was living at Amma’s house, & my husband often visited us–life was perfect!

Until, 3 months later, my best friend died in a fire. I’d known her my whole life & even when I got pregnant, she was excited to be an aunt! But after we lost her, something broke in me. I don’t remember this, but Amma says, after I came home, I refused to look at my daughter. I’d point at her & shout, ‘I won’t touch her, she’s burning!’ I’d stopped eating, bathing & I’d self harm. Amma would sit by my bed all night to ensure I didn’t wander out.

And soon, she put me up for treatment. Initially, my husband visited & but as time passed, his visits dwindled. Even when I got pregnant & delivered a boy 2 years later, he barely spent time with us. I should’ve seen it coming, but when I found out he was having an affair, I was shattered! I lost all the recovery I'd had.

Later, he tried to reconcile–I forgave him, for my kids but nothing changed. 6 months later, when I confronted him, he said, ‘You’re crazy! You can’t even look after us.’ Those were his last words to me… That day, he left & never came back.

I’d only cry… but one night Amma said, ‘Don’t lose heart–live for your kids!’ I realised they deserved a better life.

So, I started treatment again. But mental health problems are such a taboo; getting the right treatment in my village wasn’t easy. I felt helpless–my kids were living like orphans & my family was struggling to keep me alive.

And last year, when The Live Love Laugh team found me during one of their camps, they helped me with treatment & paid for my medication. They got me onto a government scheme, which gives me a pension of Rs. 1,000 per month!

Today, I’m better, mentally. I try to make up for all lost time–every day, my kids tell me all about their day, & I love it. I cannot change the past, but I can promise my kids a better future. Because, at my lowest, my family was my rock. And now that I'm recovering, I'll say to those who are struggling, ‘It's okay to ask for help!’ Because there’s hope, even when your head tells you there isn’t.”

I was really young when I started to feel like not living anymore. I had no expectations from anyone. I felt anxious very often. I would wake up every morning and never really felt like doing my work or studying. I felt terrible, I kept wondering why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this? After feeling this way for sometime, one day, I decided to end my life, without thinking about anyone, because things were getting terrible everyday, I attempted suicide and it failed and the first thing someone told me after this, was that it failed because I deserve to live. I deserve to be happy. What I have learnt over time is that these feelings are definitely not permanent and this too shall pass. Yes, it hurts and survival feels difficult, but the hope we can get when we see others supporting us throughout the recovery process is just unmatched, unexplainable and wonderful. Especially for someone like me who keeps thinking that things will never get better. Even the littlest of things matter, and so do our precious lives. I went on with my treatment and I kept getting better. It's a process, it takes time, of course it’s unforgettable, but when it brings out the best in us, it seems to be so beautiful! I hope we all believe in ourselves and just keep going. Our lives are beautiful and we deserve to live. Nothing but hope should be our strength!

Almost 800,000 people die by suicide around the world every year, a number that is trending up, a number that includes my brother, Raj, who died by suicide on March 27 2020.

As someone who has struggled with her own mental health since the age of 13, having attempted suicide myself and being a suicide loss survivor, the last two years since losing Raj have been particularly difficult to come to terms with. “Suicide is preventable,” that is the industry narrative. And I think people hear that and embellish a bit, to “ALL Suicides are Preventable.” And so for us, the ones who experienced this loss, the ones who were in the house when our loved one died, the question becomes “Suicide is Preventable—so why didn’t you prevent it?” People who die by suicide, they survive in an altered state of reality, sometimes for years, sometimes for simply a moment. But from what I have gathered talking to other survivors about their loved ones, either they were in so much pain that they couldn’t even think about other people, and just needed a way out, or they were thinking about their loved ones and truly believed that their dying would be the best option for everyone. For those in the latter situation, it’s almost a sacrifice—their altered reality makes them think that the world would be better off without them, and so they make it happen. When someone dies by suicide, whatever pain they’re going through, whatever pain they think they’re putting on other people, it doesn’t go away. It gets transferred to everyone who loves that person. And it gets compounded tenfold. Whatever someone is going through, whatever they think they are bringing on to their loved ones, I guarantee you, losing them is worse, losing them hurts more.

My heart is with the folks like me, the folks for whom those things came too late, or not at all. Today my heart is with all of us who know what this loss feels like, those of us who I bet, more than anyone else, wants to see a world without suicide because we wouldn’t wish this pain on our worst enemy. Today my heart is with the Suicide Loss Survivors community, the community who is seeing all of these ways suicide is preventable, and still can’t fully grasp the fact that their loved one fell through the cracks Today my heart is with the club nobody wants to be a part of, a club I joined on March 27, 2020, a club where, if I had one wish, I would wish to not exist.

I see you. I feel for you. I feel with you. And I am so, so sorry.

It was October 2009. Just 2.5 years after my wonderful son was born. For about 2 years before that, I had been feeling 'low'. I tried to cheer myself up, but it didn’t work. I didn't feel like getting out of bed. I would get up with my son, spend time with him till his nanny came and would go straight back to bed when she came. I only came out of my room for meals, sometimes not even for that. I was always exhausted, didn’t enjoy anything and nothing felt stimulating. The world felt like a murky bubble. I was a practising architect at that time. I started calling in sick to work almost 2-3 times a week and only went if it was inevitable. What started as tiffs with my husband, started becoming long stretches of no communication from either of our ends. The bubble got murkier. I started believing that my husband and son's life would be better without me in it. I actually started imagining another person in my place in their lives. And one day I decided to make that a reality. It took me 3 trips to the medical store to get enough sleeping pills and one day in October, I took them all. Fortunately, my husband found me and took me to the hospital and they managed to save me. I went through therapy for over 2 years after that to feel better. Meanwhile, I discovered quilting and the repetitive process of stitching was therapeutic for me. I fell in love and soon went from being an unknown quilter in a quaint little town in India to an International sewlebrity. As the pandemic spread its shadow across the world, I started feeling low again. And I decided I want to help others. Now seeing others immerse themselves in their passion inspires me! And I am a much stronger person today!

In the eyes of the world, I am an Ivy-league educated, award-winning Indian woman who has surpassed many glass ceilings and has attained significant cultural exposure by living globally.

In the mirror, I am constantly working to sustain my strength by changing the narrative of past traumas. My journey is that of an introverted female of Indian diaspora raised in the UK.

Raised with a traditional, culture influenced value system, tolerance and compromise were parts of my DNA; however, anything in excess, void of firm boundaries, signals to perpetrators that wrong treatment is acceptable.

I stand today as a survivor - from emotional, economic, psychological, and physical abuse, and complex PTSD.

Trauma has many physiological side effects and can impact everything from memory and concentration to dysregulation of the nervous system, digestive ailments, panic attacks and nightmares, feelings of unpredictability, distrust, and even self-harm.

Sometimes, staying in a difficult circumstance is very hard, and leaving the circumstance is even harder.

It takes immense courage to spend even a moment in an environment that is detrimental to one’s mental health…and it takes all the courage in the world to either walk towards physical suicide or the cultural and social suicide of exiting a toxic environment and crumbling one’s entire existence in the process.

Integrity towards those who need compassion, instead of accentuating social pressures is the difference that can light a candle of hope in the heart of someone who is emotionally losing to the pain of otherwise invisible wounds. Understanding this and creating areas of psychological safety can literally help save lives.

I know that I am not my illness, although my illness is a part of me.

I spent most of my teenage years feeling out of place and misunderstood. Three years into therapy and multiple diagnosis later, we found the problem - Borderline Personality Disorder. I wept so hard and stayed in bed for days because it seemed like a death sentence. Ironically, living seemed like a death sentence too. I consider myself lucky to have access to good therapists and medication, but the emotional pain I endure feels out of the world sometimes. I feel the weight of recovery on me every time someone points out how much I've changed or how moody and distant I have become. Have I grown to accept the fact that I don't need to fake it all the time, or have I just gotten worse? All these questions cloud my judgement of who I am as a person. The world just seems like a cruel place where I am but a broken piece of some grand puzzle. The inescapable loneliness of it all is indeed overwhelming, but hey! atleast I am not the only one going through this, right?

I know that I am not my illness, although my illness is a part of me. My illness sometimes drags me down like an anchor tied to my legs, but it also lets me soar like a kite and helps me feel so deeply for others. It lets me uplift others the way I want to be, solely because it enables me to feel for them and put myself under their skin. Ever so often, I wonder what it would have been like to be "normal",but then I wonder if I would have ever been as close to this version of me that my people choose to love.