What I Did The Moment I Woke Up

A Blog For Suicide Prevention Month

When I woke from my suicide attempt, I didn't know where I was or what time it was. All I knew was that I was breathing, and that wasn't supposed to be happening anymore. I was shocked. I hadn't imagined what life would look like at this moment, because I'd expected to become part of the statistic you hear about when it comes to veteran suicide.

Suicide doesn't stay inside that statistic, though. It touches civilian communities just as hard, just differently — different reasons going in, but the same moment coming out of it: you're still here, and you didn't expect to be.

Here are three things I did immediately after waking up. They're the same three things I share on stage.

1. Was it worth it?

You survived. Now think about what drove you to this point. Sit with this question: if you could do it over again right now, would you?

That question was my biggest chance to work on me — on the things I'd let control me to the point of a serious attempt on my own life. This is the conversation I have most often after a keynote. It usually starts with, "You were so right when you said that — it wasn't even worth it."

2. Enjoy the suck (wallow in it)

When I opened my eyes, the first person I saw was my mom. I was embarrassed for two reasons: one, I had survived; two, my mom was there. She'd already seen me in a hospital bed once, after I was shot by a sniper in Iraq. And now here she was again, this time after a failed suicide attempt.

"Enjoy the suck" is a military term. It means you don't like the situation you're in, but you keep pushing until it's over. The faster you try to run from it, the faster it will chase you. Think about Jason: People would run as fast as they could in a panic but he was always behind them. That’s what running away from this conversation it like: it’s always right behind you until you talk about it.

One of my favorite sayings pairs with it: when you're going through hell, keep going. Some people march through it for a couple of weeks. Some for months. Some for years. But I guarantee you'll get through it — and you need to, because the hardest part is behind you, not ahead of you.

3. You're going to have to talk about it

In Georgia, a mental health professional can place you under what's called a 1013 — an involuntary mental health evaluation, typically resulting in a hold, because you were considered a danger to yourself and/or others. I talk on stage now about my attempt and how healing happened afterward. It took me about four years before I was strong enough to talk about it.

Your talk doesn't need to be a 45-minute keynote. It might be a five-minute conversation with a loved one or a friend. It might be longer, it might be shorter. But talking is essential.

Lastly — live every day to the fullest. I hope you're already making the most of every day you have. If you're not there yet, that's okay too. Just keep going.

I share this not only as a veteran but as a National Advocate for NAMI (the National Alliance on Mental Illness), because this fight belongs to every community, not just mine.

If you or someone you know is struggling:

Veterans: Veterans Crisis Line — dial 988, then press 1, or text 838255

Everyone: 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, available 24/7

NAMI HelpLine: 1-800-950-6264, or text "HelpLine" to 62640