I saved a woman from suicide while raising money for Mind

It was the culmination of a long period of depression and social anxiety. The multiple lockdowns in 2020 were a welcome excuse to hide from the world, but the resulting isolation was the ideal environment to entrench a harmful internal narrative of being worthless and unlovable; a narrative built upon a lack of confidence in the person I was, and instead trying to be someone I thought I should be. 

After a year of this, combined with my long-term partner leaving me, having the comfort of returning home for Christmas snatched away by a last-minute lockdown was a breaking point.

Suicidal thoughts are terrifying. For me, it was a loud, commanding internal voice, distinctly not my own. It told me nobody would miss me and I should take my life. It drowned out any rational voice.

It took suicidal thoughts for me to accept I was mentally unwell, despite earlier warning signs only too obvious in hindsight.

A few days later, I talked to my brother. When you are isolated with depressive thoughts, your internal narrative negatively warps your self-perception. Having conversations about my mental health helped me realise I was loved, something I had completely lost sight of.

Then, I talked to a friend who’d been suicidal before. Knowing my friend had experienced the same thoughts made me feel I could share, which is why it’s important for me to speak openly about my episode now.

I still contend with these expectations, but having this awareness helps me stop from sliding into negative thoughts. 

Mind were also a part of my healing journey. Their website was a great resource for me to educate myself around mental health and to hear other people’s stories.

Mind helped me remove the shame and stigma that is the biggest barrier to recovery. 

I also made changes to my life, prioritising self care and doing things that made me feel like myself. I shifted my efforts into being the creative, outdoorsy person I am.

The more I pursued my love for the outdoors, writing and drawing, the more I had the courage to commit to an old dream that would combine my passions: walking the coast of Great Britain for charity.

The idea stemmed from a ‘that would be cool’ moment when glancing at a map of Britain. I could hike during the day, selling drawings I would do for donations, and write during the evenings. 

At over 6000 miles, and a year of walking, it was an exciting and uncomfortable idea; it presented a choice between living the way I intuitively felt was right for me or living the way that felt expected.

I left my job and started on 3 October last year. So far, I have walked over 3,500 miles in one continuous journey, camping all the way. Starting from my home in North Wales, I walked south for the winter, around England and now into Scotland.

The physical and mental resilience I have built since Christmas Eve 2020 has been tested, facing winter storms, freezing temperatures and arduous terrain.

I lost a stone and a half in the first month. My tent fell apart and collapsed in the storms on the west coast. I’ve often been soaked during the day, only to put my wet clothes back on in the morning.

I can be stoic and humorous about it, but other times I want to panic or cry. It can be lonely, too.

I think if I wasn’t doing it for a cause I believe in, I would’ve quit a long time ago. But at the start of this walk I said to myself, ‘You don’t have to walk the coast, you just have to walk today, step by step’. In those difficult moments, I just focus on the next step.

Despite this, walking the coast was the best decision I could have made for myself. The hard moments elevate the good moments into pure wonder and happiness. Every day I think it can’t get any better – and every day, I am proven wrong.

The kindness and generosity of people has been transformative and overwhelming. Among the many acts of kindness, a man I met in a Cornish pub replaced my disintegrating tent!

I couldn’t have come this far without people like that, or raised over £13,000 for Mind.

I’m also thankful I was in a position to help someone before it was too late.

When I told the woman on the edge I had been suicidal myself, I hoped for a moment she didn’t feel alone. I hoped she would see that it can get better.

Slowly, she came away from the edge. 

I didn’t know what to do next. Fortunately, we were seen by a local crisis unit who were patrolling and with us in minutes. They told me later our body language made it clear there was something wrong.

The crisis unit were excellent and took over, but I didn’t want her to feel alone surrounded by people in uniforms. I stayed with her for an hour until she was taken away by emergency services.

We didn’t get to talk much, but she told me she liked my hat, that I was a nice man. She was really kind.

I cried afterwards. I felt like I’d been holding my breath. It’s hard to see someone in crisis, then to leave them. I wanted to help more but couldn’t.

I don’t know how she is doing now – but at least I know I did everything I could.

The day after my episode that Christmas Eve I was so grateful to be alive. I hope she was too.