Managing intrusive thoughts and suicidal thinking: “Did I actually want to kill myself?

(approx eight minute read)

X had crossed the road thousands of times and had never thought seriously about walking in front of a car. Then one day he did. That one moment sparked two years of intrusive suicidal thoughts. Here he shares his story. 

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I’d crossed the road outside my home hundreds, maybe even thousands, of times. This time was different.  

I stood on the corner of the curb and imagined walking out in front of the on-coming car.

It’s a pretty normal thought. I’m sure there are millions of people in this country who have had that thought cross their minds but then carry on with their day. I’d been one of those people for the first five or so decades of my life. 

This time was different.

This time, the thought didn’t pass. For the rest of the day I took that thought seriously, questioning whether I did actually want to walk out in front of a car and kill myself. 

For the rest of that day the thought circled around in my head. As my head hit the pillow it kept me awake for hours. 

I was scared. Scared of my mind. I’d never had any such thoughts before. Why now? What did it mean? Did I actually want to kill myself?

I hoped I’d wake and the thought would have passed. It didn’t. That day, when I wasn’t distracted by work or exercise, or whatever else, it was all I could think about. Repeatedly. Hundreds of times.

Weeks went by and thoughts of how I’d harm myself evolved. (read our article: How this simple science-backed breathing technique could help reduce your anxiety)

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Standing on a balcony, I’d imagine jumping. Standing at the top of the stairs, I’d imagine jumping. Standing on a train platform, I’d imagine jumping. Basically, anywhere there was an opportunity for my mind to create a scenario where I could do some damage to myself, it found it.

Every new intrusive thought made me question more and more whether these thoughts were serious. 

Why do I have thoughts of self-harm even though I don't want to die?

One evening, really out of desperation, I joined a Zoom call with Anxiety UK. There were about 10 people on the call all sharing how anxious they felt about x, y and z. 

(If you are experiencing thoughts of self-harm of thinking about suicide contact the Samaritans).

Towards the end of the call I did pipe up and share what was happening to me. That opened the floodgates. One woman had convinced herself she was a paedophile and had to leave her job working with kids out of fear. She wasn’t a paedophile. It was just an intrusive thought. My mind was blown. 

But in truth, their anxiety made me feel worse. 

I then sought out therapy and was referred to a psychiatrist. At the time I thought a psychiatrist was someone who saw people who were so ill they needed 24 hour supervision. Again, the anxiety got worse as I assumed I was going mad or was mentally very unwell. 

I subsequently learned that a psychiatrist is just someone who can prescribe antidepressants / medication. (read out article: Five proven self-compassion exercises for mental fitness and stress relief)

It was an enlightening first session with this doctor. I explained how I felt, told him I didn’t want to kill myself but couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The doctor used a useful metaphor to explain why this might be happening to me now.

“Imagine your stomach as the hard drive of a computer,” he said. “And imagine your mind as the screen. Each day, thousands and thousands of thoughts pass between the two. Many of those thoughts are weird, odd and sometimes scary. But when your resilience levels are high and you’re not stressed you simply ignore them or pass them off as incidental. When you're stressed or burnt out sometimes you latch onto a particular thought and can’t let go. That’s what’s happened to you.”

It was comforting to know. His relaxedness about me being fine and ‘normal’ also helped. 

He referred me for CBT to manage intrusive thoughts. I had a number of sessions and for the first time in about six months the thoughts subsided. I felt free, at peace. 

But then they returned. I thought I’d ‘beaten’ them and they’d gone forever. I fought them, trying to force them to go away. That just gave them more fuel and they got worse.

I was on holiday with my partner and our Airbnb had a lovely balcony. First thought on arrival. What if I jumped? For the next three days I became an insomniac. I was anxious and scared of my thoughts again and just couldn’t sleep. 

But again that passed.

This became a common cycle for the next year or so. Peace, then fear. Sometimes the thoughts were overwhelming, sometimes bearable. Why wouldn’t they go away?

Then, after a different type of therapy, this time called Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) I was slowly starting to be able to disconnect from the thought and see it for what it was, just a thought.

This took a huge amount of practice and time, it wasn’t an overnight transformation. 

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I journaled, I meditated, I personified my thoughts and gave them a name, Maximus. I’d talk to Maximus in my head when uncomfortable thoughts came up. Thanking him for the thought, recognising it might be a ‘warning’ to me I might be stressed, overwhelmed or anxious and then changing my behaviour slightly. 

I should say throughout this period (probably a couple of years at this point) I’d barely told a soul about what was going on, just two male friends. I didn’t tell my wife, family or friends. I felt a mix of too scared or ashamed to share. Would my wife leave me because she thought I was mad? Would my family go into a permanent state of panic? Would they think they’d failed as parents (they hadn’t by the way)?

I did eventually tell my wife the whole story, when I felt like I was totally at ease with everything. She was incredible. Listened, didn’t judge, didn’t think I was mad. In fact, she told me she’d had similar thoughts once upon a time. 

That was another weight off my shoulders.

I’ve still not told my family, I’m not sure I ever will. 

However, thankfully, today, I continue to manage these thoughts pretty well. They do crop up occasionally but I can now, generally, let them pass by without any discomfort. 

They may crop up again in times of high stress, I just need to remember not to fight them.