See content specific to your location:

Choose another country to see content specific to your location.

Continue Go

Sarah’s story

Sarah called Samaritans countless times over the years during her struggles with mental ill health. She credits the helpline for bringing her back from the brink and says it stopped her from taking her own life.

“I’ve been an artist for 22 years and I create vibrant oil paintings of toys, sweets, food —everything kitsch basically. My art is studied in schools all over the world which is probably my proudest achievement. I did the album cover for Kaiser Chiefs in 2012 and I was a guest judge on Britain’s Best Young Artist on CBBC in 2021 – that was an amazing experience.

“I have in Studio in Letchworth where I spend my days painting and creating beautiful art. Despite my mental health battle, I’ve managed to maintain my career. It’s been my rock. When I’ve had to pick up the pieces, it’s been there to help me get my life back on track.

“I had my first episode in 2005. I lost my dad to cancer the year before and I’d also just been through the breakdown of a long-term relationship. I went into a very severe episode where I was struggling with depression and psychosis. That was when I first started ringing Samaritans.

“My original diagnosis was major depressive disorder because I kept having these long periods of severe depression where I would feel suicidal, which was really difficult. In 2015, I went through a cycle of struggling with depression for three months and then moderate mania for three months. This went on for several years, and so they changed my diagnosis to bipolar type 2.

“In 2017, I had my first manic episode where I had psychosis. It was very intense and I ended up being sectioned. I spent a month in hospital and when I came out, my marriage was over. My husband had left me and I had to move into a one-bedroom flat. I went into a year-long depression. I’d lost everything, I was on my own and had no support. I felt like I couldn’t keep calling my friends and telling them how broken I was.

Having that compassion, that non-judgement from the volunteers at Samaritans who would give me a chance to talk and listen to what I was going through, how hard I was finding life and how hopeless I was feeling. Having that comforting voice at the end of the phone was everything.

Sarah

"I called Samaritans countless times during this time, it was an absolute lifeline. It was such an important part of my healing. On more than one occasion Samaritans has prevented me from taking my own life.

“In 2005, I made a call – I don’t know how long it lasted but it was the longest call I’ve ever made to Samaritans. The man I spoke to talked me back from the brink. I remember feeling I can’t believe what I was offloading and that he wasn’t hanging up on me. That really stood out for me. He was persistent and wanted to hold my hand down the phone line and get me through. I felt like I was in an impossible place. Whoever it was on that occasion, he was just there for me in a way that other people just couldn’t. I owe my life to him.

“I was aware of Samaritans through my dad, he had used Samaritans when he was poorly. My dad had very severe type 1 bipolar. I adored my dad. He pointed out the branch to me and so even from a young age, I remember thinking it was a really special place. Not knowing that one day that I would be in need of it.

“I have also lost friends to suicide. My uncle took his life when I was 10 years old, he kept it all in so we didn’t know he was having a hard time. It was really hard, we used to think of him as like our second dad, so when my dad was ill with his bipolar, Uncle Peter would step in and support us. I was heartbroken when he died.

“In 2019, I started to fully recover and now I haven’t had an episode for four and a half years. I was discharged from the mental health team in October, having been under them for the best part of 17 years. That was a major milestone.

“My ill health has massively shaped my life. It’s been really brutal at times, but I survived and I just want other people going through a hard time to know that you can recover.

“I started running around 15 years ago when I was trying to manage my bipolar. I would run sporadically but this year I started doing park run, which led to the Hitchin 10k, Royal Parks and then ultimately the marathon.

“The London Marathon will be my first marathon. I’m going to feel so proud to be doing it for Samaritans, I think because I know first-hand how life-changing a phone call to Samaritans can be. To promote what they do and to have a Samaritans shirt on is going to feel like one of my greatest achievements. I know that there is still so many people that don’t know what Samaritans do, so to be able to spread the word and give people hope.

“To anyone struggling, it’s really simple — just talk. I think talking is the key to finding a way through. There’s so much shame and embarrassment, especially in young men. You are encouraged to be strong and not cry, all these social norms that are put on young people, young men especially. It’s just about finding a way to talk and open up to somebody. That’s the first step on the path to recovery, telling someone you need help and not feeling ashamed. I hate the stigma and shame that is attached to mental illness.

“The message I always say is that if you break your leg you don’t feel shame so if your head is broken in whatever way, there shouldn’t be shame attached to that either. The brain is the most complicated organ in the body, if it does malfunction, it is going to be complex, difficult and hard. I’ve overcome that hurdle and that’s why I feel able to share and talk, because I know none of it was my fault.”

Lives change when we break the silence. You can help us be here to listen to people like Sarah when they need us most. A simple donation has the potential to change countless lives.

With your support, we can be there to listen when people break their silence.

Donate now to keep us listening

Need support? Call 116 123 to speak to a Samaritan or

view other ways to get in touch