But, 10 years ago now, instead of feeling full of joy and that life was beautiful, I felt scared … and miserable … and ashamed of the person who stared back at me in the mirror.
I found it impossible to be able to construct or even envision a future – and I felt shockingly, shockingly helpless as a result.
I soon lost myself in alcohol, and in drugs, since they seemed like the only remedies that could keep my anguish at bay.
When I finally got sober, I felt so overwhelmed just trying to get through each day that it felt like I was fighting to keep my head above water when it was up to my nose, and the water kept getting deeper, and I’d forgotten how to swim, and there was no-one around to save me, and no matter how much I kicked and struggled and screamed, I just kept sinking.
And after a while, I started thinking:
“What’s the point of all this? What’s the point in continuing to fight a battle I don’t think I can win?”
And over the next 36 months, I felt suicidal on more days than I’ll ever remember. Due to an antidepressant medication I’d been wrongly prescribed, I developed psychosis, and ended up in a psych ward. I got diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I wound up in hospital for a second time, and I believed – with all my heart – that I would never, ever, ever recover.
Since you’re thinking about reading this book, my friend, then I’m guessing that in your own way, you’ve been through hell too.
So, I want to tell you my story - to try my damnedest to convince you that just like me, you CAN recover.
I want to tell you my story to show you the steps you need to follow in order to do so.
And, if you’re on the verge of suicide like I’ve been, I want to tell you my story to do my damnedest to convince you to put down the gun. Or to drop the razor blade. Or to put the pills back in the cupboard – because I swear to God life can get better.
I swear to God it’s possible to overcome depression and live your dreams.