Abbie’s story

I hadn’t even reached my teenage years when I first started to self-harm. My parents were going through a messy divorce and custody battle, and as there had been domestic abuse, the police were involved. We had markers on the house, and I was given a panic alarm – there was a lot going on. At one point we ended up homeless and needed to move in with my grandparents. There were five of us in a little three-bedroom house and my papa had cancer, so he was in and out of hospital a lot. Sadly, he died not long after this. 

Everything just got too much for me and self-harming was my way of having control over something. It was an outlet, it was how I coped. It's a bit like if you shake a can of Coke; you can feel the pressure, you know it's bubbling, and you know it's going to explode. It's sort of reaching that point and the only way I could find release was with self-harming. As a teenager I also tried to take my own life. I remember contacting Childline, which helped me at that point, but I never told my mum about it, especially as she found out she had cancer a few years later. 

I think there’s a real lack of understanding around self-harm. Many people believe it’s an attention seeking thing and it’s not – that’s such a misconception. You can’t control the pain that’s going on outside your life and inside your life, and self-harm enables you to let the pain out.

Things were a little more stable going into my early twenties. I got a job working as cabin crew for an airline and I met my husband. However, when Covid hit, all my problems seemed to come back. 

Contacting Samaritans

Initially we stopped flights and received furlough pay, but then we received an email to say the company was making redundancies and I was at risk. However, there was no timescale, so I had no idea when I was going to lose my job or what would happen about my pay. Come August, I got the devastating news that I was jobless. My rent was horrendous and I just didn’t know how I was going to survive. I felt overwhelmed with panic. 

About a week later my husband had gone out for the day and I just remember sitting and crying. I didn’t think there was any point in being alive anymore. I didn’t know how I was going to live, and I felt like such a burden on everyone because I had lost my job. I remember locking myself in the bathroom and deciding I was going to take my own life. 

I had felt suicidal in the past but never sat and planned it out, but this was the lowest I had been, and I had a plan.

Then something in me just thought ‘speak to somebody – there’s got to be a way out.’ That’s how I came to call Samaritans.

If I hadn’t made the call at that point, I thought my husband was going to come home and find me dead on the floor and I didn’t want that for him.

I remember a lady answering the phone and she was so calm. I told her what I was planning to do. She asked if I was at home by myself and I told her I was. She suggested I leave the bathroom and go and make myself a cup of tea. I think it was her way of moving me out of the place I had gone to end my life – out of danger. I went and made the tea and as daft as it may sound, it gave me a fresh outlook on things.

I don’t remember a lot of what she said after that. What I do know is that it was the best possible thing I could’ve done that day. Without that call it would’ve been a very different outcome. I don’t believe I would be here today.

Getting support

Contacting Samaritans helped me out of the really dark hole I was in. I think it showed me that there is a way forward, and there is light at the end of the tunnel, as people say. It helped set me on the right track to get support. I saw my doctor and was prescribed antidepressants, which again, I feel there’s stigma around, but for me they’ve made such a difference. I’ve also had counselling to help me process what I’ve been through over the years, which has really helped.

I’ve still had low periods, and self-harm is always going to be something I carry with me in some way for the rest of my life. There’s no taking back what I’ve done to myself over the years. However, I have developed coping strategies. I also think I’ve just learnt to talk to people, and the more I do, the more you realise that you’re not the only one going through this.

Now I just want to live a long and happy life, in which I can do some good. To make a positive difference like Samaritans did for me.

Fundraising challenge

I initially started running during lockdown, when everyone else seemed to be going mad baking banana bread, which I’m not a fan of. I started with the couch to 5k, but when I got the news about my redundancy, I didn’t continue. However, at the start of this year, I decided to give running another go. For me, it just clears my head.

I decided to take on the Great North Run as some of the girls I work with had signed up, running for Breast Cancer Now, as sadly one of them was diagnosed with breast cancer. They asked if I wanted to do it with them and when I saw I could run for Samaritans, it was an easy decision.

I stumbled across a girl on social media who had not long started a small running group for women, and we started meeting once or twice a week. I would definitely recommend joining a running club, if you can. I don’t think I could’ve done it without her, to be honest. She gave me lots of advice and encouragement. I think it’s great for accountability as well when you have six, seven, eight other people rooting for you and encouraging you.

I was so excited for race day. Above all, I just really wanted to give something back to the charity that saved my life.

Abbie’s story

Contacting Samaritans

Getting support

Fundraising challenge

How we can help

Fundraising challenge