image_galleryThis week astrologically is a very Scorpio/Pluto influenced week, I have very strong Scorpio/Pluto placements in my chart so I am going to tell you a story that is about a normally taboo (Scorpio) subject. Something that has been long buried and it’s finally time to transform (Pluto) this story. It is also National Suicide Prevention Week so you might have some idea where this is going. This could be my longest blog post ever so apologies. There is no quick and easy way to tell this story.


I was 14 and mixed up living in troubled times in Northern Ireland in 1974. Yes, right in the middle of the ‘troubles’. Never felt that anyone ‘got’ me. I was seen as capable and given a lot of responsibility over my three younger brothers from an early age. Beneath that mask of capability I didn’t FEEL capable. I was a freedom and truth seeking rebel who questioned everything.


I remember the medicine cupboard being on the left behind the kitchen door as you looked out of the windows overlooking the front garden. My family have never been big pill poppers so all I could find was aspirin. I took a lot. About 30 I believe. In my young and mixed up mind I thought I would go to bed and never wake up. It was an impulsive move. I don’t remember planning it.


I couldn’t get to sleep though. I got really scared. What if this hurt? What if I haven’t taken enough? Would aspirin really do the job? What have I done? I lay there crying.


I waited until the house was as quiet as a mouse. It felt like hours but I don’t remember how long exactly. I went into the cold hallway and called an ambulance. I wouldn’t give my name or address. I made them meet me at the end of our road. No cell phones back then.


At the hospital no one was kind. After a grilling they made me drink a foul smelling liquid that made me vomit and vomit and vomit. I am thankful they didn’t feel the need to pump my stomach. This makes me think it was not that long after I took the pills.


At some point in the night they wore me down and I gave them my name and parents phone number and they called them.


The whole thing is a blur. I was then on the ward and my Mum and Dad were by my bedside. I don’t remember any hugs, just them sitting there and looking helpless.


I was in hospital for 3 days as they tested for damage. Again no one was kind. In fact most staff were distinctly unkind. After all I had been a bad girl and what I had done was a sin (remember the religious climate in Northern Ireland in the 70’s was very old school).


I saw a psychiatrist a few times but didn’t like him. Nothing kind there either. I remember being asked why I did it and other silly questions. I wasn’t very forthcoming, I just wanted out of there. There was no connection to this man on the other side of the desk. I have no idea why the therapy ended. I probably told him I wouldn’t do it again to get him off my back.


After i got home from the hospital it was NEVER mentioned again in my family. And I buried it deep inside.

I have been going through a heavy Pluto transit for the past couple of years however and they tend to dig up that which is buried and it has come up in my being more and more and now it’s time to tell. No more hiding. No more pretending it didn’t happen.


Did I mean to go through with it? I don’t know. Why did I do it? I don’t really know. Why did I never try again? I don’t know. I don’t know if I will ever be able to answer those questions.


Why am I telling the story now? Because it’s time I started to come out and not bury my deepest shame any more. Because it may help someone, just one other person. You just never know what speaking your truth will do. Am I worried that my telling this will hurt others if they see it. A little. But it’s still time to tell.


You may have noticed a theme of lack of kindness. All I wanted was for people to be kind to me. To treat me with some compassion. I received coldness and fear. So I buried it and started to close down.


If you have someone who is troubled in your life, someone who is mixed up, be kind. Don’t like what they do? Be kind anyway (Mother Theresa’s words). If you have someone in your life who starts to shut down, be kind to them and they may feel they can connect with you rather than face that ultimate act of suicide.

I am being kind to my 14 year old self as I shed a few tears at the fact that it has taken almost 40 years for me to tell this story.


Just BE kind.

If you would like to help with prevention does invaluable work - I am going to ask about becoming a volunteer.