I called a crisis helpline
***TRIGGER WARNING*** The following blog contains references to suicide. If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, help is available. In the U.S., call or text 988 or chat 988lifeline.org. For countries outside the U.S., visit findahelpline.com to find your local crisis line.
Crisis helplines provide free and confidential emotional support to people in suicidal crisis or emotional distress 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. If you’re thinking about suicide, are worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, call or text your local helpline 24/7 (988 in the U.S.; findahelpline.com for other countries). If you’ve never called or texted a crisis helpline before, it can be a little intimidating. What can you expect when you contact a crisis helpline?
Calling 988
You will hear an automated greeting message that features additional options (veterans/Spanish).
Music will play while you are connected to a skilled, trained crisis counselor.
A trained crisis counselor at a local center will answer the phone.
This person will listen, work to understand what you are experiencing, provide support, collaborate with you on ways to feel better and connect you with any needed help or resources.
Texting 988
You’ll first complete a short survey letting the crisis counselor know a little about your current situation.
You will then be connected with a trained crisis counselor, who will interact with you to understand what you are experiencing, provide support, and connect you with any needed help or resources.
Chatting 988lifeline.org
You’ll first complete a short survey letting the crisis counselor know a little about your current situation, and then see a wait-time message while you are connected to a crisis counselor.
A trained crisis counselor will answer the chat, converse with you to understand how your problem is affecting you, provide support, and share resources that may be helpful.
Source: 988lifeline.org
Even if you know what to expect, it can be difficult to dial/text the number or press enter. For a long time, I’ve personally applied a stigma around crisis helplines. I’ve always thought, oh those are for OTHER people. Those are for people actually in crisis. Then there’s me over here not having eaten in days, having suicidal thoughts, and somehow that’s not a crisis? I thought I didn’t have it “bad” enough to warrant calling a crisis helpline. I didn’t have an active plan to kill myself, so was I really that bad?
Future Marcie: YES, MARCIE, YOU WERE REALLY THAT BAD AND NEEDED HELP.
Over the years, I’ve called and texted various crisis helplines, and what I’ve come away with is only positive experiences. When I have hung up or put down my phone, I always feel better after talking to a crisis counselor. Of course, a crisis counselor is not a replacement for a therapist you see regularly, but when you’re in a crisis, you need someone who is available 24/7, and that’s where crisis helplines come in. In the following few pages, I share the first time I ever called a crisis helpline and what my experience was like.
If nothing else, please take away from this blog that there is NO shame in calling a crisis helpline; they are just another resource in your mental health support system.
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I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, cocooned in my comforter. Real clothes are traded for pajamas, and I’m unshowered with unbrushed hair. Do I even remember the last time I showered? What it feels like to get undressed and feel the warm water rush over my skin? Unlikely. I pull the blankets higher up over my neck until all you can see of me is the top half of my face, my eyes squinting as I’ve not put in my contacts or put my glasses on.
I glance over at my empty water cup on my nightstand. It’s not empty because I drank it all like a good girl. It’s empty because I never filled it up in the first place. I cough a little, trying to clear my throat and rid myself of this dry mouth. Maybe I should drink something? But that would require getting up and leaving this safe cocoon. Maybe later, I reason with myself. I burrow myself further into my comforter cocoon, not 100% sure if I’m lying to myself or not. Am I planning to get more water later? Who’s to say?
My stomach rumbles; it says, FEED ME. But also, DON’T FEED ME. My stomach is very temperamental and contradicting. I recently started a new psychiatric medication, and my stomach is like, NOPE, DID YOU THINK YOU WANTED TO EAT AND NOT FEEL NAUSEOUS? THINK AGAIN. I don’t know why my stomach is speaking in all caps. It does feel like it’s screaming at me, though. Do I remember the last time I ate something? Also no. Sigh. If only this stomach would behave. Bad stomach, I chastise it.
My thoughts start to swirl beyond my lack of showering, eating or drinking. That’s just par for the course at this point. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to do ANYTHING. Am I a bad person for not wanting to do anything? I probably am because I’m not accomplishing anything. I’m just a lazy lump on a log. Why do I have to be this way? I wish I was someone else. Someone who didn’t have these feelings.
Why do I have to be me? And why does “me” suck?
I continue to spiral in non-concentric circles. It’s like a roller coaster, but one that’s messed up and keeps circling back on itself until it’s a tangled mess that makes the ride not work anymore. The thoughts are the tracks, and my brain is the ride. If only my brain had reason and rationale, I wouldn’t be sitting here nauseous AF and feeling lightheaded. Oh, did I mention I’m lightheaded? Literally lying down in bed, not moving, I’m still lightheaded. That’s why I’m not getting up to get water, I argue with myself. If I were to get up, the blood would rush to my head, and I’d be lightheaded and maybe pass out. So really I’m doing myself a favor by staying in this cocoon. It’s amazing what my brain can rationalize when depression has a hold on it.
My spirals start to get darker, like a dark cloud indicating it’s going to rain, except the rain is coming from my eyes instead of the sky. Ugh, this is annoying. Why am I even crying? I don’t get it. Why am I LIKE this? Why am I even here? What if I weren’t here? Maybe that would be easier? Then I wouldn’t have to deal with all this crying and getting water nonsense. Hmmmm…
My thoughts continue to darken, the rain clouds turning to thunderstorms. As I battle back and forth in my head, I start to think to myself, What am I doing? Why am I talking about not being here? Why haven’t I eaten or drank anything in days? This is not good for me. I start to come to the realization that this is not normal, and I need help. I can’t wait until my next therapy appointment; I need to talk to someone NOW. I pull out my phone and go to my favorites. There the crisis helpline is, starred at the top of my contacts in my favorites.
PRO TIP: Always save the crisis helplines in your contacts when you are in a non-crisis situation. That way, when you are in a crisis situation, you don’t have to think about finding a phone number or website.
I stare at the number. Am I really going to do this? Do I need to do this? Then I think back to the dark thoughts I just experienced, including ones of not wanting to be here. Yes, I NEED to do this. I press call, and the phone starts ringing. My heart starts beating faster. In a few moments, I’m connected with a crisis counselor.
She starts by collecting a little bit of information about me and asking if I am planning on killing myself. I am honest with her that I do not have a plan, but I have had some thoughts that I’d be better off not here. She proceeds to ask about my eating and drinking habits and how I’m feeling. Then she turns to a practical solution approach. (Little does she know that I love PRACTICALITY and SOLUTIONS). Together, we pick out three things that I could do that would make me feel better. She helps me choose an easy task, a medium difficult task and a hard task. That way, I can at least accomplish the easy task.
For my easy task, I choose heating up leftovers and filling up my water cup. Which, in and of itself, is a challenging task at the moment. But obviously this will help me feel better because then I won’t be so lightheaded. Also, eating and drinking are kind of important to survival. Or so I’ve heard. I promise the crisis counselor that I will do it, and that is enough to motivate me. I’m very commitment-focused, and so if I say I’m going to do something, I follow through and do it.
For my medium difficult task, I choose taking my dog to the dog park. It’s a nice day outside, and being in nature, plus hanging out with my dog, always makes me feel better. Also it gives me an excuse to get out of bed, get dressed and leave the house, which would be kind of crazy if I actually did it (did I do it??? Keep reading to find out 😉).
For my hard task, I choose calling a friend. Being able to talk to someone about how I’m feeling, kind of like I’m doing now talking to the crisis counselor, somehow always brings me some sense of peace. It helps me to talk things through and gets me out of my depression brain that is so good at telling me lies.
The crisis counselor stays on the phone with me for nearly an hour, as I work through my feelings and our practical solutions. I say “our” because she is every bit a part of the plan, and the accountability she instills in me makes it so I want to actually complete some if not all of the tasks I promise I will.
We end the call, and I start to feel a little inkling of hope. Maybe I CAN get up and fill up my water. I can do it.
I unfurl myself from my cocoon and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. In one, two steps, I’m up, and I have officially said fuck you, depression. Well, not literally. It would be kind of funny if I just yelled out fuck you, depression in my empty house, but alas these words stay in my head. I take a few steps to the kitchen and fill up my water cup. While I’m in there, I even heat up leftovers in the microwave. I sit down in my bed and actually start to eat and drink.
When I finish eating and drinking, I think to myself, What if I did go to the dog park? Raylee would really enjoy it. And that is enough reasoning for me. I love my dog more than anything in the whole world, and I would do anything to make her happy. I start to get dressed and head to the dog park. When I get to the dog park, I even talk to a few people there (GASP!). (I know, I can’t believe it either). I feel accomplished. Maybe I didn’t call a friend (that was my hard task), but I did my easy task and my medium difficult task.
Being accountable to the crisis counselor, and to Raylee, helped me prioritize myself and really fight back against my depression.
I won’t bullshit you and tell you it was super easy to call a crisis helpline. Of course, logistically it is. It’s just a few clicks of a button. But emotionally, it’s not easy to reach out for help, especially when you are in a crisis. That is why I am incredibly proud of myself for reaching out for help when I needed it. If you’ve ever contacted a crisis helpline or are thinking about it, I’m proud of you, too.
