Sam talks about her experiences of crisis and finding her way out of the darkness…

Content Warning: Suicide

This blog post discusses topics related to suicide, including suicidal thoughts and experiences. While we approach this topic with care and sensitivity, some readers may find the content distressing.

If you are struggling, please reach out for support. You are not alone. UK-based support is available from:

📞 Samaritans – Call 116 123 (24/7, free)
📞 Shout – Text 85258 for confidential support
📞 National Suicide Prevention Helpline – Call 0800 689 5652

Please take care while reading, and prioritise your wellbeing.

Where do I even begin...

Suicide... it's a harsh term, isn't it?

A term filled with so much stigma and misconception.

The truth is, though, for a lot of autistic people, including myself, it's the harsh reality of living in a world that wasn't built for us.

As a late-diagnosed autistic person with misdiagnosis after misdiagnosis, feeling like I didn't 'fit' into any of the diagnostic criteria for each label that I was given, suicide felt like the only way to escape the crippling loneliness, isolation, overwhelm and misunderstanding. The inner turmoil of not knowing who I was or why I was feeling or acting in particular ways, suppressing behaviours that felt so natural and trying to mimic those around me became all too much.

I was stuck in a cycle of psychiatric hospital admissions because no professional knew what to do with me. Autism was never even brought up as a possibility. It was an incredibly bleak time. To have years and years of your life taken away from you due to no one asking, 'Could you be autistic?' The trauma of being taken away from my family, often miles away, not because I was mentally unwell for the majority but because I was undiagnosed and struggling to try to navigate my way through life.

As the years passed, suicide attempts plagued my life. Each time, becoming more and more dangerous due to the trauma of those hospital admissions, trying to mask and not being understood by anyone. I had one particular mental health nurse have as much faith in me to say, 'I don't know when, but I guarantee you will die by ending your own life'. Even giving an age that they thought I'd die by.

Suicide was the only logical escape from all these feelings, misunderstandings and isolation, at least that's what I thought at the time.

Thankfully, after my diagnosis, I then found The Autism Wellbeing Project.

Where do I even begin?

Support, guidance, understanding, loyalty, community, a sense of belonging, finally being able to be 'me' and having hope for my future. A vast difference to the life I once lived.

Without the commitment and the support of The Autism Wellbeing Project, I can honestly say that I don't think I would be here today being able to write about my story. Suicide once was my only way out, but since being involved and a leader in my own support plan, having autism-affirming therapy, having a friendship group that 'get' me, a community that I can always rely on and having the most incredible support staff, suicide isn't even a thought that enters my head anymore.

It seems so simple, doesn't it? Providing support to autistic people in a way that is appropriate to them, but we are being failed, the autistic community are being failed. This is the reason that I'm now a co-trainer for The Oliver McGowan Mandatory Training in learning disability and autism, to make some much-needed change in the way that autistic people are treated. We must be treated better and in a way that is right for us. By doing this, I truly believe that so many more autistic lives can be saved from suicide.

It is only through hope that you can see the light, that is what The Autism Wellbeing Project provides.

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Kath talks about her experience joining AWP and becoming a cotrainer