#worldsuicidepreventionday.

#Worldsuicidepreventionday! It seems to come round quicker every year.

Ordinarily I like to do my bit of "awareness raising", by regaling people with my attempts at removing myself from the census, from my dark and distant past. The days when 75% of my bodyweight was Colombian marching powder. A time when, my band mates used to have a bet between themselves on Hogmanay each year. A wager to see who could most accurately predict the month I'd die, either intentionally or accidentally. The bastards!

This year I'm going to recount my most recent demon wrestling death match.

At the turn of this year I was so deep in suicidal ideation that I barely felt human, more like a cursed ventriloquists' dummy. Every synapse in my brain felt like it was holding a grudge, charging with unendurable static electricity 24/7. My resistance worn down like an eraser on a pencil.

Actually being able to achieve obituary status is surprisingly difficult. Every time I've willingly knocked on death's door, the callous wanker has closed his curtains, turned off his lights and pretended not to be in. Your body instinctually fights it, even as your brain welcomes it in. Armed with this knowledge and previous disappointing experiences, I devised a triple method plan. Over a couple of months I methodically gathered everything I required, then planned the day , right down to the specific hour that I was going to finally become past tense.

As I left work on the day in question, I was struck with a fanciful notion. Since this was going to be my final day "why not indulge in a couple of my old bad habits to celebrate". This was never part of the original plan, just a spur of the moment flourish as I bid farewell.

Safe to say my tolerance for certain substances has diminished with time. Instead of going out on a "high", I literally passed out before I had even put the first step of my three pronged plan into action.

When my alarm woke me up the next morning, the shame was worse than the hangover/come-down. I tidied everything away and made plans to seek help again. I now have a new psychiatrist and CPN.

Months of adjusting to a new meds regime and I'm in as good a place as I ever get. I'm actually secretly proud that I've exceeded the average age of an autistic adult. And that my former band mates never took any money of each other. The bastards!

I hate being sincere, but the I owe a huge debt to my work colleagues and the individuals they refer to me to work with. Their genuine acceptance of my "weirdness, issues and past" has been a first in my life. So in the realm of suicide prevention - be nice to the weird person at work. They probably don't realise how awkward they're being. Your kindness and humanity can save lives.

Roll on to #worldsuicidepreventionday next year.