Asking for Help with Suicidal Thoughts

by Cindy Clarenbach

A couple walks hand in hand on a quiet street, each holding a woven heart, symbolizing love in the crisp, misty air.

WARNING: This post contains references to depression and thoughts of suicide.

Last September I participated in the Jay Walkers Challenge for suicide prevention. The goal of The Challenge was to walk 800,000 steps in the month of September representing the 800,000 individuals worldwide who lose their lives to suicide each year. But I realized there was no way I could reach 800,000 steps on my own, so I asked my husband, Scott, to join me. He realized that there was no way just he and I would be able to achieve 800,000 steps on our own and so my brother, sister-in-law, and sister became part of my team, as well, and I so appreciated their loving support in this endeavor. 

I was diagnosed with depression in my early thirties. My treatment was counseling and medication. I haven’t been to counseling for several years but I continue to take a low dose course of an antidepressant.

I fought the medication in the beginning and intermittently throughout the years. I thought I shouldn’t NEED medication just to be a NORMAL person. My doctor would always reason with me, “Well, if you were a diabetic, you wouldn’t refuse treatment, would you?” Of course, I would agree but still felt like I was faulty ... weak, unlike everyone else who didn’t need to be medicated just to be happy. 

But depression isn’t just being unhappy. It's much more. During my longest and deepest depression ... that time when I made a plan to end my life, I was drowning in a deluge of endless negative thoughts ... constant, repetitive thoughts of worthlessness, guilt, shame, hopelessness. The uncontrollable thoughts seeped into and filled every part of my being. I felt like a weighted hollow shell. These thoughts and feelings were so intense and so powerful that I came to believe there was only one way to make them stop. 

This part of the story is hard to tell and probably hard to hear. It is sad but thankfully, the ending is not. Below is a poem I wrote about the experience of asking for help with suicidal thoughts.

Asked for Help

In the doctor’s office and at the hospital 

They all asked me 

Did you make a plan? 

Yes 

When my guilt, my shame, my self-loathing, my despair 

Grew immeasurably 

When it all spread and hammered within every part of my being 

When it pushed beyond what I thought I could endure 

I made a plan 

And when my plan grew 

When it took shape, and amassed details 

When my plan felt achievable 

It frightened me 

Frightened me more than the anguish and desolation 

Frightened me so that I pushed beyond the torment 

And asked for help.

What made me ask for help is a feeling that finally outweighed all those others. Love. The love for my children. As flawed and broken as I knew I was, I could not inflict intentional, permanent pain on the three human beings I loved most. My love for them made me want to be strong, to be resilient, to be well. To be whole.

And that made me reach out, to push through the anguish and desolation, and ask for help from someone I knew would help me without question, without judgement. 

I will forever be indebted to that person who cared for me, comforted me, brought me to where I needed to be for the professional attention I urgently required.

Love saved me. 

While walking last September with my supportive team, accumulating 800,000 steps together, I often thought about that time in my life, thankful for the professional care I received and the abundant love that pulled me through. Every step I took was a prayer that all others facing the same struggle would receive the care and love they needed to feel well, to feel whole, to feel worthy of life.

---

Cindy Clarenbach is a life-long New Hampshirite. She is married with three adult children. Cindy has worked with the senior population for 18 years, the past ten as a senior center director. She is the author of a book of poetry entitled A Journey Together, Saying Good-bye to a Father with Alzheimer's Disease. In her spare time, Cindy enjoys nature walks, birding, writing, and spending time with family.