I was about to take my own life, and then my train passed through Hope  --[Reported by Umva mag]

Some people say, when contemplating suicide, that hope saved them. 

But for me, Hope, in a very literal sense, felt like someone taking the piss. 

When I considered suicide inevitable back in 2017, I had aimlessly boarded a train and planned to take my own life. 

And I accidentally ended up in a Derbyshire village called Hope.

It makes for a good story now, and looking back it may have helped, but at the time it was just another grim reminder of how little hope I had. 

My experience with depression started in 2012 when I was 37.

Looking back, there were signs. Internally, I was incredibly harsh and self-critical. Because of this, I felt stressed, irritable and short, all the time. And in turn, I wasn’t nice to be around – I became absent and awkward with people I cared about. 

But when my depression really hit, it felt like a sudden kick to the crotch. One morning in October I woke up, and felt like I wasn’t there. I just felt numb. 

At the time, I didn’t understand what was going on. I just knew something wasn’t right. But not knowing what was happening meant it was even harder to talk to people. If I didn’t know what was happening, how could I expect someone to be able to help me? 

Over the next five years, things got worse. I was attempting to study for a second degree and working a full time, intense job. I also had a young family, with two children.

I was biting off more than I could chew, and was beginning to choke. The depression had been brought on by burnout from taking on so much. 

On top of that, I had so much awkwardness and shame about what I was feeling. 

Things in my relationship got to the point that in August 2017, my partner asked me to leave home. I was angry and I also totally understood. 

But losing my kids hurt and things continued to become difficult and fractious. I saw one of them at the weekends and the holidays, which kept me going, but my relationship with everyone around me became more and more strained. 

I had always thought of myself as a good dad – but not anymore. I knew my partner was making the right decision.  

As things got worse, the idea of suicide quickly went from a far-off idea to something inevitable. It only took 24 hours for me to get to that point.

I didn’t want to die. It just felt like the best thing for everyone involved.  

And so, in August 2017 I got a train from Sheffield to Bamford with the intention of dying.

The weight of what I was going to do suddenly hit me during that journey. I was so scared. But I didn’t know how to stop it – taking my own life just seemed like a logical conclusion. 

I sat on the train in tears, desperate for someone to intervene. But no one could look at me. 

It was that classic British stiff upper lip, look away politely and stare at the floor approach. I don’t blame people for not checking what was wrong. So many of us just don’t know what to do when someone is struggling. 

A grown man crying is uncomfortable to watch. It’s easier to turn the other way.  

But when I finally looked up, I saw I’d missed my stop, and was outside the sleepy village… of Hope. 

It didn’t deter me from what I thought I had to do. I had a plan – and I hated when I couldn’t follow through on plans. So I stepped off the train, and spent six days walking around the Peak District, sleeping rough with no idea what to do next. 

I wasn’t prepared, ready or dressed to live like this. It was awful, and I was scared of myself and what I’d tried to do.

Eventually, I called 999 for help. 

I ended up being picked up in an ambulance before spending just over 10 days in hospital.

The emergency worker that brought me in had to stay with me, to make sure I was safe – when I woke up he was still there, in the middle of the night, eating KFC. 

He said it would probably get him in trouble, but he offered me a chip. It was just a chip, but it felt like the kindest thing anyone could do for me at that point. He has no idea what it still means to me. 

Eventually, I was discharged to my parent’s house – it was while I was there, I had a realisation. If I was to get better, I knew it would be because of the steps I’d taken. Things I’d decided to do myself, not just based on the advice of others. 

I always struggle to explain this as it’s so difficult to say to others in a similar position. 

I started taking care of the basics. Sleeping, eating, hydrating, exercising – the foundations that I wouldn’t have got better without. 

And over the course of a couple of years I made progress. Of course,it was gradual with lots of false starts and missteps. But I did it.  

Since, I’ve joined Men’s Minds Matter, a suicide prevention organisation. 

People on social media often ask us if men really need help, when society is set up in a way that benefits them in general. 

But it’s important to remember that in the UK, three quarters of all completed suicides are by men. 

It’s the single biggest killer of men under 50. 

Men’s Minds Matter was started by my best mate from uni, Dr Luke Sullivan. He invited me in early 2019, in the early stages of my recovery. It completely changed my life. 

Now I’m a fixture at the organisation, and I’m helping others to avoid going through what I did. 

I still have good and bad days (and weeks), but I’m better equipped to deal with them now. They don’t scare me as much as they used to. I feel more robust and I know how to look after myself. 

Because of this, I’ve been able to be more empathetic to everyone around me. My relationship with my kids is better than it’s ever been. 

I’m on my way to becoming a fully qualified counsellor. I know what people are going through – and now I can help. 

Suicide remains one of our biggest taboos, despite one in five adults having thought about it. We’re scared to say it, talk about it, ask about it. We want to challenge that. 

Our new campaign at Men’s Minds Matter is aiming to change it, encouraging people to talk openly, and ask a friend if they think they might be suicidal. 

It’s a horrible, awkward question to have to ask your friend – ‘are you having suicidal thoughts?’ 

But being direct about it is the best way. 

It opens up conversations that people haven’t had before. It can be the question that leads people to the answers they need. 

Who knows how different my story would have been if someone had asked me.  

So please, if you think someone is thinking about ending their life, say the S word. It might help them find their own version of hope.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected]. 

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