Mental health services and support for adults

“I didn’t want to be here anymore.”

TM’s story begins at the edge of life. He woke up in a hospital bed after a suicide attempt, a nurse shining a torch into his eyes to check for signs of consciousness. His first thought as dread washed over him: “I’m still here.” Years of alcohol dependency had dragged him into a cycle of guilt, fear and isolation. He felt worthless. A burden. He believed life had no place for him.

But something shifted the night he walked into his first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Struggling to sleep afterwards, he reflected on what he’d heard, people speaking about a “higher power” or a “god of their own understanding.” One person offered a different take: GOD as “group of drunks.” That phrase stuck. These people had faced the same darkness and found a way through.

In a moment of quiet desperation, TM reached out mentally for help. He now recognises that thought as the most honest prayer he’s ever made. That night marked the beginning of his recovery. With the support of AA, TM hasn’t had a drink, or a suicide attempt, in nearly 40 years.

TM’s message to others:

“If you’re struggling, please know your thoughts may be lying to you. You’re not weak, and you’re not alone. Don’t judge yourself, we’re often our own harshest critics. Focus on today. If you have what you need right now, you can live to fight another day.”

Northamptonshire Male Suicide Prevention Campaign

As part of the Northamptonshire Male Suicide Prevention Campaign, TM answered 3 questions to shape their story.

Question 1: Can you tell us your story on suicide?

TM's answer:

Rock Bottom! I am awakened by a nurse holding my eyelid open and shining a torch in my eyes to see if I have regained consciousness after a suicide attempt (one of several). "I'm still here," was my first thought. "I really didn't want to be here, I couldn't do life anymore. I was useless and a burden to everyone around me."

My distorted thinking through the progression of my alcohol problem had brought me to this point, the downward vicious cycle of drinking to relieve the loneliness and fear, the guilt and remorse of previous episodes had brought me to what I thought was the terminus.

Question 2: What was the turning point for you?

TM's answer:

What I recognise today as the turning point in my life came while I was struggling to sleep after my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. People at the meeting were talking about their "higher power" or a "god of their own understanding". I wasn't keen on the god concept, and someone suggested the acronym GOD for "group of drunks." I recognised the "group of drunks" at the meeting had found a solution to the same problem I had.

In the midst of my tossing and turning, I thought, "If there's anything out there in the form of a god, higher power, or whatever, I knew I needed help. Without help, I would get drunk, whether I wanted to or not. That was what always happened." Today, I recognise that "thought" as the most sincere prayer I have ever made (but I would have denied at the time that I was praying).

With the help and support I found in AA, I have not had a drink, nor any suicide attempts, since that night nearly 40 years ago.

Question 3: What is one piece of advice you would give to someone who is struggling right now? 

For anyone struggling right now, try to recognise that your thinking has become distorted. Do not judge yourself, we can be our own worst critics. AA has taught me to live in the present. I don't dwell on the past. What's done is done, I can't change it although I can try to address any damage that may have been done. I try not to worry about the future. None of us knows what the future holds.

If I do what I am supposed to do today, tomorrow may be better as a result. When I start feeling stressed, it is very rarely about the present, almost always about something that I may have done, or something that might happen. I was taught to bring things back to right now: I have what I need (maybe not everything I want). If I have what I need now, I can live to fight another day.

“I saw no way out.”

Ethan, 25, grew up feeling abandoned and misunderstood. When he learned that his father had left when he was just a baby, it triggered years of resentment and self-hatred. He withdrew from his family, isolating himself emotionally. The only person he trusted, the one he could talk to, was a close relative who later died of cancer. Her loss shattered him.

Grief turned into guilt. He blamed himself for not seeing the signs, for not spending more time with her. At school, relentless bullying added to the pain. The emotional weight became unbearable. Ethan felt trapped in a cycle of depression, self-harm and silence - until he reached breaking point and attempted to take his own life.

But hope came in the form of a friend, someone he’d known since primary school. They reconnected by chance at a new secondary school and bonded over music and shared trauma. She was also struggling with depression.

Together, they created a safe space to talk, to cry, to heal. They made a promise to each other: “Try our best to survive.” That friendship became a lifeline, and it still is, even now that she lives in Canada.

Ethan’s message to others:

“You are not alone. Even when it feels like the world is against you, there are people who care. Talking helps. Being vulnerable doesn’t make you weak. It means you’ve been strong for too long. Reach out. Listen. Share. You never know whose story might save your life, or whose life you might save by sharing yours.”

Northamptonshire Male Suicide Prevention Campaign

As part of the Northamptonshire Male Suicide Prevention Campaign, Ethan answered 3 questions to shape his story.

Question 1: Can you tell us your story on suicide?

It was a very dark time for me. Many years ago when I was at a young age, my mother told me that my dad left when I was an infant, and since then we had been living with my uncle. Obviously as a kid, I had no clue that this was the case, that then turned into a time of self-hatred and resentment towards my family, and I decided to isolate myself from the outside world and refused to speak to any of my family members.

Fast forward to a couple years later, the only family member that I was extremely close to, the only one I was willing to talk to during that ‘self-isolation’ period, passed away from cancer. I felt a sense of loss and grief. Everyone processes grief differently and I, in the end, drown myself into a deep cave of despair, blaming myself for not spending more time with her and for not recognising her cancer had returned.

During the funeral, working alongside with all the family members that I have tried my best to avoid, ironically I suddenly felt a sense of numbness and detachment. All of a sudden, I was going from one end to another, either depression or emotional detachment, there was no in between. All that just became too overwhelming, on top of that, I was getting constantly bullied at (secondary) school, and I have had enough.

Years of torment and self-harming had ultimately led to me attempting to take my own life as a means of escaping from the pain, I saw no way out.

Question 2: What was the turning point for you?

There was this one friend at the time, whom I have known since primary school, and we got even closer when we moved to a different secondary school together by coincidence. During the early days of secondary school, we bonded over our passion and love for music, and family trauma: she was dealing with a lot in her family, which has led to her time of depression as well.

Somehow, we related to each other’s stories and we started to open up to each other, from talking about music and reminiscing our primary school life, to talking about our depression and anxiety, I finally felt like I have someone whom I can trust to talk to as I just could not open up to my psychiatrist who seemed really closed off.

Talking about my trauma and my depression has helped relieve some of the pain I have been feeling, and with a support system finally being available for the both of us, we promised each other to “try our best to survive.”

Safe to say that this friendship has lasted cus of this bond, and even now that she moved back to Canada, we are still keeping in touch and will be there for each other when needed.

Question 3: What is one piece of advice you would give to someone who is struggling right now? 

Know that you are not alone. Although at times you will feel like the world is against you and you are the only one in pain, you are not the only one going through the dark days. In fact, there is a high probability that someone is going through the same if not similar situation as you.

Help is always available, whether it is a family member, a psychologist, a friend, or even a colleague, there will always be people who will listen to your story, and sometimes, the only therapy you need is to rant and talk about it, making the burden feel a lot lighter.

There is a stigma that mental health issues when it comes to men is not ‘real’ and is often being overlooked. However, with more people sharing their stories and talking about it, it helps raise awareness of men's mental health.

Being vulnerable at times does not equate to ‘not being masculine enough’ or ‘not being reliable’, it is just the fact that you have been strong for too long. Always keep and open mind and listen, you may find the experience of others eye-opening, inspiring even, that we all went through tough times and still made it until now.