This time of year is the time of year where I think about mental health more than anything. Being a mental health advocate and sharing my story is something I am so passionate about, but in saying that, it doesn’t always come easily or without painful memories. I remember this time 5 years ago the horrific state I was in for over a month, and then when it came to May I believed that I couldn’t live anymore. When someone is suicidal and experiences suicidal ideation, someone talking to them about how they are feeling and asking them about their suicidal thoughts doesn’t make them more suicidal. What pushed me over the edge was when I was suicidal, I tried to speak up and about those thoughts to a ‘ mental health professional ‘ and was dismissed and degraded. More than anything, I just wish someone looked at me and said “ Would you like to talk more about this?” I wish somebody provided that space. I wish somebody listened and took those thoughts seriously. Because they are serious. So freaking serious. The thing that saddens me the most about all of this, is growing up in the mental health system and being hospitalised as a teenager due to my mental health, I can easily count 10 people I was in hospital with who are no longer here with us today. 10, beautiful, strong beautiful souls gone far far too soon because of stigma. The misconceptions. The lack of support. The lack of beds. The lack of adequate mental health treatment in this country. Imagine if those 10 people were still here, able to share their stories and how they got better. It hits. 1 suicide is too much. So this time of year is when something inside me clicks even more. For the people who live with mental illnesses, who are suicide survivors, who are feeling suicidal, who feel misunderstood by the mental health sector, who need hope, or those who believe it won’t get better. I share my story because of that. Things can change. Things need to change. Let’s change the perception of mental health.