calloftheabyss
Member
- Aug 30, 2023
- 18
I've been severely clinically depressed since I was a little kid. Nearly every therapist I've ever spoken to has said some version of the same thing after hearing my story:
That still hits me hard. But lately, I've started to take it differently—maybe it means I've figured something out about surviving this long. Maybe I'm doing something right.
I may want to die, but I won't lose just yet.
So, here it is: the ChatGPT-polished, no-BS guide to how I've survived myself. I hope something in here helps.
Step 1: Build a Safety Net
This is the most important step. It's not metaphorical. It's a literal piece of paper (or a note on your phone, whatever works) with critical information that can ground you when everything starts to slip.
Your safety net should include:
1. Emergency Contacts
Write down at least one person you can call or text anytime. Ideally, find two or three. They can be friends, family, coworkers—anyone you trust and who picks up reliably. You don't need to explain everything; just say, "I need to talk." If you don't have anyone right now, find crisis lines and add those too.
2. Danger Signs – Your Personal Red Flags
What does it look like when you start slipping? Write it down. For me, it's hygiene—I stop showering daily, I avoid cleaning, I isolate. Catch these early signs. They're not signs of weakness—they're your brain throwing up a flare. Learn your patterns.
3. Joy List
List out healthy activities that usually bring you joy. Emphasis on "usually," because when you're depressed, nothing might sound good. That's exactly the point—if nothing on this list sparks interest, you know you're deep in the hole. This list gives you a starting point when decision fatigue sets in.
4. Triggers and Spiral Signs
Know what sends you into a downward spiral. What things, situations, or thoughts tend to start the unraveling? What does your spiral look like? Write that down too. This isn't about avoiding life—it's about awareness, so you can steer clear of danger or prepare for it.
How to Use the Net:
Glance at it every few days. Gauge where you're at. If the warning signs are blinking red, and especially if your joy list feels meaningless—use it. Call someone. Don't wait for rock bottom.
Step 2: Find Your Coping Tools
Coping skills aren't magic. They don't cure the pain, but they do soften it, interrupt it, and stop the little dips from becoming full-on nosedives.
Start with a big list—Google is your friend. Search things like "Coping skills for anxiety" or "Coping strategies for depression." Experiment and cross out what doesn't work.
Here are two that work for me:
It pulls me back into the moment when my brain is off spinning in every direction.
Repeat until your body starts to loosen. It really works.
Your list might include journaling, cold showers, talking to someone, making art, taking a nap, stretching—whatever helps ground you.
The key is this:
Don't wait until it's bad. Use your coping tools early and often. We're not aiming for perfection—we're trying to slow the snowball before it crushes you.
Step 3: Go Outside. Every. Damn. Day.
Even if it's five minutes. Even if you just stand on the porch or sit by a window. Sunshine and fresh air don't fix everything, but they're fuel.
Think of yourself like a complicated houseplant:
You need sunlight, water, and gentle movement. Don't underestimate how much your brain craves natural light and air.
Can't walk far? That's okay. Just being outdoors counts. Two weeks of this, even in tiny amounts, and I swear you'll notice a shift.
Step 4: Delay the Exit Plan
If you're thinking about ending your life—don't do it today.
Make a deal with yourself:
Schedule it for one week from now.
This may sound flippant, but it's not. That one week gives you time to use your safety net. Time to reach out. Time for something—anything—to change, even just a little.
When that day comes, if you still feel the same, reschedule it again. One more week. Keep rescheduling. Keep giving yourself a shot at healing, no matter how small the progress feels.
You deserve that shot.
Bonus Tips That Helped Me
- Keep a "Proof I Matter" folder
Screenshots of kind messages. Photos with friends. Thank you notes. Anything that reminds you someone has seen your worth. Revisit it when the lies get loud.
- Name the Beast
II call my depression the call of the abyss. Giving it a name reminds me: it's not me. It's something I'm dealing with.
- Talk back to the thoughts
Not every thought you have deserves belief. If your brain says, "I'm worthless," try saying, "That's not true. I'm hurting, but I still matter." It sounds cheesy. Do it anyway.
Final Thought:
You're not broken.
You're not weak.
You're not alone.
This stuff is hard, and you're still here. That means something.
Print this out. Save it. Share it. Modify it. Make it your own.
You don't have to live forever right now. Just make it through today. Then we try again tomorrow.
That still hits me hard. But lately, I've started to take it differently—maybe it means I've figured something out about surviving this long. Maybe I'm doing something right.
I may want to die, but I won't lose just yet.
So, here it is: the ChatGPT-polished, no-BS guide to how I've survived myself. I hope something in here helps.
Step 1: Build a Safety Net
This is the most important step. It's not metaphorical. It's a literal piece of paper (or a note on your phone, whatever works) with critical information that can ground you when everything starts to slip.
Your safety net should include:
1. Emergency Contacts
Write down at least one person you can call or text anytime. Ideally, find two or three. They can be friends, family, coworkers—anyone you trust and who picks up reliably. You don't need to explain everything; just say, "I need to talk." If you don't have anyone right now, find crisis lines and add those too.
2. Danger Signs – Your Personal Red Flags
What does it look like when you start slipping? Write it down. For me, it's hygiene—I stop showering daily, I avoid cleaning, I isolate. Catch these early signs. They're not signs of weakness—they're your brain throwing up a flare. Learn your patterns.
3. Joy List
List out healthy activities that usually bring you joy. Emphasis on "usually," because when you're depressed, nothing might sound good. That's exactly the point—if nothing on this list sparks interest, you know you're deep in the hole. This list gives you a starting point when decision fatigue sets in.
4. Triggers and Spiral Signs
Know what sends you into a downward spiral. What things, situations, or thoughts tend to start the unraveling? What does your spiral look like? Write that down too. This isn't about avoiding life—it's about awareness, so you can steer clear of danger or prepare for it.
How to Use the Net:
Glance at it every few days. Gauge where you're at. If the warning signs are blinking red, and especially if your joy list feels meaningless—use it. Call someone. Don't wait for rock bottom.
Step 2: Find Your Coping Tools
Coping skills aren't magic. They don't cure the pain, but they do soften it, interrupt it, and stop the little dips from becoming full-on nosedives.
Start with a big list—Google is your friend. Search things like "Coping skills for anxiety" or "Coping strategies for depression." Experiment and cross out what doesn't work.
Here are two that work for me:
- 5-4-3-2-1 Grounding Technique:
- 5 things you can see
- 4 things you can hear
- 3 things you can touch
- 2 things you can smell
- 1 thing you can taste
It pulls me back into the moment when my brain is off spinning in every direction.
- Box Breathing (4x4)
- Breathe in for 4 seconds
- Hold for 4 seconds
- Breathe out for 4 seconds
- Hold again for 4 seconds
Repeat until your body starts to loosen. It really works.
Your list might include journaling, cold showers, talking to someone, making art, taking a nap, stretching—whatever helps ground you.
The key is this:
Don't wait until it's bad. Use your coping tools early and often. We're not aiming for perfection—we're trying to slow the snowball before it crushes you.
Step 3: Go Outside. Every. Damn. Day.
Even if it's five minutes. Even if you just stand on the porch or sit by a window. Sunshine and fresh air don't fix everything, but they're fuel.
Think of yourself like a complicated houseplant:
You need sunlight, water, and gentle movement. Don't underestimate how much your brain craves natural light and air.
Can't walk far? That's okay. Just being outdoors counts. Two weeks of this, even in tiny amounts, and I swear you'll notice a shift.
Step 4: Delay the Exit Plan
If you're thinking about ending your life—don't do it today.
Make a deal with yourself:
Schedule it for one week from now.
This may sound flippant, but it's not. That one week gives you time to use your safety net. Time to reach out. Time for something—anything—to change, even just a little.
When that day comes, if you still feel the same, reschedule it again. One more week. Keep rescheduling. Keep giving yourself a shot at healing, no matter how small the progress feels.
You deserve that shot.
Bonus Tips That Helped Me
- Keep a "Proof I Matter" folder
Screenshots of kind messages. Photos with friends. Thank you notes. Anything that reminds you someone has seen your worth. Revisit it when the lies get loud.
- Name the Beast
II call my depression the call of the abyss. Giving it a name reminds me: it's not me. It's something I'm dealing with.
- Talk back to the thoughts
Not every thought you have deserves belief. If your brain says, "I'm worthless," try saying, "That's not true. I'm hurting, but I still matter." It sounds cheesy. Do it anyway.
Final Thought:
You're not broken.
You're not weak.
You're not alone.
This stuff is hard, and you're still here. That means something.
Print this out. Save it. Share it. Modify it. Make it your own.
You don't have to live forever right now. Just make it through today. Then we try again tomorrow.
