How a field of dandelions saved my life

Content warning: mental health, depression, suicide

I spend a lot of time on Twitter. Too much, honestly. I’ve formed an emotional attachment to my morning/afternoon/evening/bedtime doom scrolls. One of the common themes I’ve found in serious commentary and shit posts alike is depression. I think it’s a rule actually, they don’t let you have a Twitter if you don’t post at least once about your ~mental health~.

This is both good and bad, I think. Good, because it’s becoming much easier and more “normal” to share about how we’re really doing. There’s generally a feeling of more societal acceptance and willingness to address mental health, with a lot of popular accounts openly talking about depression, anxiety, PTSD, etc.

On the other hand, it starts to feel like *everyone* is depressed (or your mental illness of choice), and talking about it is both cringey and pointless. It’s so prolific in our Very Online World that it’s almost insignificant.

So, the other night, I came a little too close to unaliving myself, as the kids say.

The thing is, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. After all, I had thoroughly Googled it, thank you very much, and intentionally took less than a dangerous/fatal dose of my prescribed anxiety meds. So, I didn’t actually try to die. I just wanted to not be around/awake/conscious. I should note that it didn’t even work. In fact, I was very lucky that pretty much nothing happened at all.

I’m a volunteer crisis helpline counselor. I’ve worked to support a lot of individuals as they navigate some really dark places. I know all the risk factors involved in suicide and the right ways to respond. I’m in therapy. Also, I read approximately 538 posts a day of people confessing to be suicidal—pretty much everyone is, right? So, what’s the big deal?

Feeling confident in both my knowledge and the ubiquity of my situation, I quickly moved on and returned to the 2738 things I’m currently stressing about. That is, until this afternoon. While wandering the neighborhood, I noticed a particularly lovely field of dandelions, their yellow faces beaming up at me and everyone else.

the field in question | photo by the author (who is clearly not a photographer)

“I would have missed this.”

I would have. And I’m glad I didn’t.

I don’t have any answers or insight to offer, clearly. But I am offering you a small bit of encouragement. A tiny reminder that dandelion fields (and 100 million other beautiful, happy things) are everywhere. You are certainly not alone—but don’t lose yourself in everyone else. The social media feeds that make you feel insignificant. The thoughts that whisper (or shout), “it’s not a big deal.”

All this to say — it is a big deal. I am a big deal. *You* are a big deal.