be kind

Bigger than Myself

I know it’s been a while since I’ve written. On the face of it all, things have been going well. My resilience has been better, even though people I love have been going through a tough time. I got my first lot of feedback from my Masters – which reassures me that I’m on the right track, as well as the privilege of meeting some incredible people. My coaching practice is growing and maturing, and January introduced me to some new opportunities and clients which has been very exciting. I’m surrounded by people who love, care and respect me.

Over the last few days, I’ve been in a real funk. I can’t concentrate or focus. I seem to have a million thoughts and none all at once. My heart feels heavy and I can’t seem to feel grounded. And I had no idea why.

Until this morning.

After distracting myself on social media, it dawned on me. The persistent news and climate had been overwhelming my subconscious. It wasn’t until I was having my monthly business catch up with a friend that I was able to finally be vocal about what the issue was. I am scared.

As a British Born Chinese person who lives in Norfolk, UK, my social media and news feeds has been full of people’s stories and experiences of racism following the news of the Coronavirus and of Brexit. The stories of British Chinese people’s experiences of racism in the past week has been relentless. People, including young children and the elderly, have been spat at, sworn at, laughed at and told to “go back to China” up and down the country. Although I haven’t experienced this personally this week, I realise now that it’s impacted me more so than I initially thought.

I was in London this week for a meeting. I’m there quite regularly and usually enjoy the hustle and bustle of the city. It felt different this time though. I was uncomfortable being surrounded by so many people. On reflection, it’s because I didn’t feel safe; I didn’t know what the danger might by or where it would come from. This is a feeling that is always there in the background, developed after years of experiencing comments, catcalls, threats and harassment as a woman of colour. But now, right now, I am so aware of it and there are people who have been emboldened to behave in this way.

I’m sad because I want to be optimistic about the world.

I’m afraid that my young sister will have to endure some of the bullying and harassment that I hoped was left within my own childhood.

I’m worried that my grandmother might get abused in the street as she goes about her day-to-day.

I’m anxiously assessing the risk has on my family’s businesses.

I’m frustrated that this still happens – and that there are people who experience this more often than I do, who are told to just get over it.

I’m angry that this hatred is creating a bigger chasm in society.

I feel helpless because all of this is bigger than myself.

However, there is good news.

It IS bigger than me. There have been some incredible responses to the racist behaviours and actions that have taken place, such as this response to the “Happy Brexit Day” note left in my local area and hearing stories about active bystanders who intervene on public transport when abuse is happening. 

This IS bigger than all of us and, in my current state of vulnerability, I want to say a heartfelt thank you to each of you who advocate, defend, and support others. The fact that you understand that the emotional and mental load of always being the person to stand up against the hate and ignorance (especially if it’s directed at them), and are willing to be an active and vocal ally means a great deal to someone who, at that point in time, doesn’t have the energy or courage themselves to deal with it – that is the work of a superhero.

It’s OK if you don’t know how, yet. But try. Ask questions. Use your kind intention and the skills you have to-hand. Please try.

If it helps, we were never told how to deal with it either…

Fighting for Survival

Hello– before we get into this, today (10 September) is World Suicide Prevention Day. I just want to give you heads up that this article touches on suicidal thoughts, self harm and attempted suicide. If you need it, whether you read it or not, here’s a hug from me! We’re going to jump straight in and then come out of it real quick OK? Here we go.

There will only be a couple of handfuls of people in my life who knew me before my first suicide attempt. If you do know me in real life, it’s unlikely that you’re one of them.

I was 12 years old when I took my first overdose. I was still 12 when I took my second and third. I was 23 years old when I took my last. I was self-harming from the age of 11. I arguably continue to do so to this day. My last suicidal thought was about three months ago.

During my first hospital admission, I was kept on observation overnight and told that I would need to see a child psychologist before I could leave. I got up the next day and was taken to my appointment. As I walked in, my psychologist was there with each member of my immediate family, including my young brothers. My session involved the psychologist facilitated each of my family members telling me, one by one, how my actions made them feel. How I disappointed them. How selfish I was.  I had no opportunity to respond or follow up. I was then released. This was after my second attempt on my life. My third came quickly after that – and remained a secret, like the first and like every attempt after that.

My fight with suicidal thoughts, self-harm and attempted suicides has been with me most of my life. On those very days, it has literally been a fight for my survival. A fight that I wasn’t always sure I wanted to win.

Let’s jump forward to the present day –

I am OK

On most days, I’m great. Since I am lucky enough to be here to share my stories and have a platform to do so, I’m using it to say some of the things that someone else closer to home might be thinking, that they can’t vocalise themselves right now. Because I can, and because I care.

Because depression, especially to the point of suicide, is incredibly lonely. And as scary as hell. The feeling like everything is out of control can make anyone do things that they wouldn’t normally be capable of.

And you know, every single person has the ability to prevent an unnecessary death.

Each person reading this can save someone else from grief. Because these thoughts and actions do not happen in a vacuum. It’s not entirely all in a person’s head. Thoughts and beliefs are influenced by external behaviours. And vice versa.

If you believe the worst about yourself, and it’s reinforced by other people’s perceived behaviours around you, it does just that – it reinforces those thoughts and beliefs. If it’s been lived a long time, it becomes that person’s reality. And we all know how hard it is to change and challenge your beliefs. Suicidal thoughts and actions are built over years.

In my long road to recovery, there have been many people involved – directly or indirectly. My instinct of serving others has given me families who nurture, support and build me up. Where I’ve met adversity or someone taking advantage of my kindness, whether that’s another gamer in a relevant scenario or working with a competitive, self-serving colleague, my relationships with those I’ve nurtured and celebrated always stood by me. Even when I’m not there.

But you, yes you – you can change the trajectory of that person’s fate. Be the kindness that is missing. Be present in your interactions. Show others that it’s OK to slow down, take care and put your well-being first. Be honest about your feelings, needs and expectations. Be generous with your praise. Be constructive in your feedback. Build confidence and self-esteem in others. Be the advocate when they can’t represent themselves. Embrace uniqueness, community and diversity. Own your own sh*t, instead of projecting onto others.

You don’t have to do anything drastic to prevent suicide.

But you do need to do it. Unless you’ve been through it, you’ll never really appreciate the impact that a well-timed cup of tea, or a statement of praise, or a surprise phone call can make. For me, each of these have saved my life at different points of my life.

So, to conclude – Mum, I love you. But you were wrong. My sensitivity isn’t my weakness. It is my strength. My superpower. Because now, after years of harnessing it, my vulnerability and honesty is what gives me the drive and power to help other people who are fighting for survival. Now and in the future.

IF YOU DON’T FEEL THAT YOU CAN KEEP SAFE RIGHT NOW, PLEASE SEEK IMMEDIATE HELP. PLEASE FIGHT ONE MORE DAY. YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY WORTH IT!

CALL SOMEONE: A FRIEND, A FAMILY MEMBER, AN AMBULANCE, A LOCAL CRISIS NUMBER… SOMEONE.

SAMARITANS: FREE PHONE 116 123 (UK)