Miracles could exist

Sixth form was a tough one for me. I stayed at the same school from years seven to 11 and they were some of the best years of my life. Great people and great experiences. Come year 12, the whole dynamic changed and I lost a lot of friends, people were shallow suddenly and I got in with the wrong crowd.

At the same time as this, I was diagnosed with pretty severe depression, and thus started medication. It made me really ill for a solid two months. Those two years were tough ones. Frankly, I don’t remember all that much about those years. They sort of all meld into one, grey day. There is one particular memory that I have of that time, though. One that seems to me too vivid to be real, one that changed a lot about the way I see the world.

After being hospitalised twice from two failed suicide attempts, I was resolute on the third being the final time. By now, I was in year 13-17 years old and talked to literally none of my friends. I was sure that I had nothing to live for. I took myself to the train station after looking up the next train that would come through the station but not stop.

I was going to throw myself in front of it. Quick, with little chance of survival. The train was supposed to come at 11.59am. I checked the time and it was 12.01pm no sign of the train. At that moment, I got a call from my best friend Quinn. I can’t tell you what possessed me to pick up the phone, or why I did, but I did.

He was just calling to tell me how much I meant to him and how much he appreciated me. The train came at 12.02pm, delayed by three minutes, I watched it come, walked out of the station and down to the seafront a 10 minute walk, felt the sea spray on my face, felt alive, and have never looked back since.

Since then, I’ve conquered most of my issues and have started taking part in mental health awareness initiatives. I’ve skydived and raised almost £400 for Mind, the mental health charity, and have been to a primary school to talk to the older kids about why it’s important to look out for each other.

In short, my entire life since then has been the result of two unlikely events coinciding at the perfect moment. The train was delayed and, in that delay time Quinn, called me. I’m not religious or anything, nor do I believe in miracles, but perhaps that was one. Regardless, it definitely makes me think miracles could exist.

This inspiring story was taken from ‘Speechless’, Roehampton university students project on getting students talking.