A submission from the “True Story Contest” sponsored by the Euthanasia Prevention Coalition.

By Kathryn D'hondt

It's been 4,620 days since my suicide attempt. Leading up to it, I'd been diagnosed with a cornucopia of mental illnesses (including, at different times, schizo-affective disorder, bipolar disorder type II, agoraphobia, panic disorder, and others). I felt that even if my situation could get better in the future, I was too exhausted to continue to live until it did improve. I had been so highly medicated and sleep deprived that I was convinced, beyond all arguments, that I needed to die to end my suffering.

My support team, recognizing my severe issues, understood this perspective and knew how common it was. They did not dissuade me from doing so, although they never outright encouraged it. However, I had been told by hospital staff that in order to get better care, I would need to come back in an ambulance. It was only a few weeks later that I did exactly that.

I cannot imagine what I might have been told in a world where Canada permits euthanasia on the basis of mental health.At the time of my suicide attempt, I was unable to attend school (I was 16 years old). I was unable to regularly sleep through the night due to night terrors and a psychotic detachment from reality. While awake, I experienced almost hourly panic attacks, which wreaked havoc on my already underweight and exhausted body. I could not have dreamed of ever being capable of working, of living a life without extreme support measures, or considering myself to be a generally happy person.

But. Nine weeks ago, I got married. My husband and I are expecting our first child. I was able to finish high school. I got my college diploma and have maintained ongoing full-time employment for four years. I received the support I truly needed, and no longer require medication to live a fulfilling, beautiful life. I cannot remember the last time I had a panic attack. I look forward to the years ahead of me now, and enjoy the days as they come, even when I might feel tired or discouraged.

I am so proud of the 16-year-old girl I was who endured so much hardship to overcome the seemingly endless and utterly hopeless pit of mental illness I was trapped in. I am so grateful for a medical system that could not suggest that my suicidal desires might have actually been good, true or helpful. I am so thankful to be alive. I do not doubt that had euthanasia been a lawful option, I would have sought it wholeheartedly. I am moved to grief when I consider that the difference between life and death for me could have so easily had a different outcome. 

Canadians deserve better mental health care than death. Canadians deserve the dignity of our suffering and burden being shared and earnestly helped. Canadians deserve more than euthanasia.

The original version of this post can be read at alexschadenberg.blogspot.com.