Alexis Wortley is coming out, here and now. In the eight years since her attempt, she has been embarrassed about giving up on herself and has been seeking atonement for what she did. Seeing another attempt survivor speak openly helped her decide to do the same. As she started sharing with family, friends and colleagues over the past week, a weight began to lift. And she was surprised to find that her parents had long forgiven her.
Now Alexis, an elementary school teacher in Washington state, is working on finding ways to be happy and realizing that maybe people do care, if you let them. “Maybe the human spirit is also being strong enough to say, ‘I’m not as strong as I thought,'” she says.
Who are you? Please introduce yourself.
So, who am I? Um, well, and it’s interesting, I read previous interviews and wrote stuff down, and now I’m looking at it thinking, “No, I don’t want to say that anymore.” I’m just another person in the world, a teacher, I wanted to be one since I was 5, and I used to come home from school and want to play school and had this dream of standing up in front of a classroom of kids and giving them knowledge and learning and facts and stuff. I’m a military brat, both of my parents were Marines, and it’s kind of funny that both are from the same state and met in Hawaii, and here we go. And I’m a daughter, a sister, a stepsister, everything that most people tend to be, and I’m someone who really cares a lot about people, I wear my heart on my sleeve, which sometimes gets me in trouble and is a factor in why I get depressed.
And I’m not good at describing myself because I don’t usually like to draw attention to myself, but I would like to think I’m funny, pretty smart. I like to read. I’m an animal lover. I do everything for other people but rarely for myself. And I’m gonna have to start learning for myself, make myself a priority, because I don’t know how to do that. I’m an introvert, I can spend so much time alone, I could go into my room when I was younger and spend hours by myself, reading or whatever. I never needed somebody around. I’m still like that. I’ve been living on my own for about 10 years now. At the same time, when I need to be around people, I need it right then. Sometimes they’re not always available, and sometimes that gets me down, too.
I guess I’ll go with how other people describe me. Those people say I’m beautiful and smart and caring and care about kids and empathetic and sympathetic and would give anybody the shirt off my back if I needed to. And I just don’t like to draw attention to myself, which is hard because at 5-10, it’s hard to hide. So I learned to start crouching, hiding myself, I didn’t want people to notice me, not realizing that 5-10 is a gift. That’s kind of where it all started. I like to think I’m someone people can come to. I didn’t realize I needed to go to people.
How old are you?
I will be 34 in April.
How has the past week gone, and how did it get started?
Well, very emotional. A lot of crying, but also a lot of happiness, which is a word I have a hard time using. I discovered I wasn’t happy. I think three things made this happen. One of them, I will be vague, but it was a man I dated in January. I could tell he had issues, too. I decided to ignore those issues. Maybe being with me would help him. It turns out that he decided he couldn’t do it anymore. He unfortunately had had marriages end because of infidelity. He’s been overseas with the military, so probably there are some issues there. I don’t talk to him anymore, so I’m not sure it’s ethical to speak of that. He ended it with me, so I started wallowing: “I don’t want to get out of bed, why me, why am I being rejected again?” It’s something that’s been going on my whole dating life. I’ve been rejected a lot. I discovered I’ve been finding the wrong guys, I’ve been dating those wounded guys and trying to make them happy, but I’m not happy myself.
My sister, I love her to death, she’s 26, one of those people who can just let things go. If it bothers her, she doesn’t show it. I have no idea how she does it. She came over last weekend, and I was in my pajamas, wallowing and upset. At first she was like, “OK, I’ll accept it,” then she was like, “Look, you’ve got to stop being unhappy. You’re never going to be happy with someone if you’re not happy with yourself.” I remember thinking, “Do you think I like being like this? I wake up and think, ‘OK, I’ll be depressed today?'” She laughed, and I started thinking, “What makes me happy?” I couldn’t think of one thing. I’m 33, I’ve got a great life, but I couldn’t think of one thing that makes me happy. I started sobbing, then I realized that I don’t allow myself to be happy because I feel I don’t deserve it because of what I did to myself and my family eight years ago. And I said, “I can’t do this anymore. I need to be open about what I did.”
The third one was really how I found your website, Attemptsurvivors.com. I liked the TED Talk on Facebook, the one JD Schramm posted. I was watching and, oh my gosh, this guy had all these successes in life and admitted he tried to kill himself. And I was like, “Thank you!” I was like, “Maybe that’s what I need to do, admit that I’m ashamed and embarrassed of what I did and look for ways to make it better.” At the same time, I’m tired of hiding behind it. And it’s been, like, a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, honestly.
I went to my dad and my stepmom. I talked to them: “This is how I’m feeling.” They listened and were very supportive and said whatever has to be done so I find happiness. They knew I was upset a lot, was still depressed, but they didn’t now how to bring it up. And I went to my principal and said, “Look, this is what I plan on doing, there’s a possibility of it getting out publicly, and if so, I have to do something about it, because I teach kids.” Also I told him, “I’m going to start doing this, I want to be an advocate, speak out in the mental health community. I want people to know it’s a problem.” And everybody I talked to so far said, “I’ve got your back,” and then they said, “Yeah, my friend is bipolar” or “Yeah, I know somebody.” People just don’t talk about it because they’re uncomfortable.
How will you do this?
That’s the good question. That’s what I’ll have to find out. This is my first interview. A good way to get started. I looked into getting training with ASIST in Seattle. I’ve been looking at NAMI websites on how to get involved. I’ve been on the AFSP website, they have the Out of the Darkness walks, they have one in Seattle, maybe I could sign up for that and get people for that. I could advocate in my state, get public policy going for people with mental health issues. I’ve been on the Waking Up Alive website and talked with Sabrina. She emailed me back saying, “That’s so great, here’s how you go about it, just take classes and be knowledgeable, and if you want to help people, you have to have that training.” She also said, “You have to be into your recovery process because this will trigger emotions.” She was really helpful. And I’m talking to spiritual leaders. I have a weird relationship with God. There’s times I’m totally religious, yeah, and there’s times I want nothing to do with religion and God and spirituality, and maybe it’s time to start fixing that. I want to look into a new relationship with God. I’m seeking grace and atonement, and maybe I need that from God, too. I’m looking into all these possibilities. I’m trying to find some way to get my voice heard.
What has been your experience with recovery?
Well, it’s been eight years, actually this week, and I thought I was fine. I thought, “OK, I’m out of the hospital now, I’m going to start some heavy therapy, meds, life is good, I’m alive.” I spent the rest of my 20s thinking life is good, but I kept trying to fill a void. I was filling this void, I was trying to be happy, but I was doing things that actually were not making me happy. I thought, “OK, if I can get into a great relationship and get married, I’ll be happy.” Well, that’s not true. I got in the habit of dating guys with issues like me, wounded. I was going through this cycle of constantly finding these guys. I went through a process of buying stuff. I went through bankruptcy because of it. I was buying material items. I got that under control. I’m doing well financially. I’ve decided to take myself out of the dating pool and strictly focus on me because I don’t think maybe I am completely recovered. This last week, I discovered I don’t like who I am. I’ve been telling people I’m ashamed and embarrassed. I haven’t asked for forgiveness from anybody, hiding behind what I did in hopes it would go away, maybe it didn’t actually happen. What I really need to do is address this act.
So to answer, no. I don’t think I’m fully recovered. I never did it again, I won’t do it again. I continue to see counselors, take meds, but every couple of months I get into some times when I get really down, and I know it won’t last, but at that moment in time, my brain is telling me, “I don’t think it will get better and I don’t know how to be fine,” and I think, “What if I decide to do it again? I don’t know what I’ll do.” My parents and sister said their first thought when I get down is, “Oh no, will we get a phone call again?” I decided I need to start addressing it and talking about my experience. Luckily, I now recognize the triggers that get me down.
Did they know when it happened?
Yes, the only people that knew were my mom, my stepmom, my sister, my dad, just very immediate family members. And I had two friends that knew. I work at a really wonderful school, it’s like a second family there, I’ve been there seven years, very supportive, caring. They know I have anxiety issues, I can get depressed, but they don’t know my past. I’m ready to start telling them, I guess.
My parents knew. They were there. I have some fuzzy memories of that week: ” You guys didn’t visit me at the hospital,” and my dad’s like, “No that’s not true. I distinctly remember talking to a doctor who was saying, ‘Should we put her on a liver transplant list? How do we know she won’t do it again?'” Instead, I was put on an experimental liver program to clean out my liver and kidneys. The only person I remember being there was my mom. I never asked her how she felt. The other night, she came over, and I was explaining what I’m doing. She looked at me and said, “Alexis, I forgave you a long time ago. You’re my daughter. I was upset and angry, but you’re my daughter.” I was like, “Wow, she forgave me.” I was kind of stunned.
Since then, you’ve talked to other family?
Yeah, my dad and stepmom said they had never forgotten about it but forgave me. The reason they swept it under the rug is because they thought I had. So they never brought it up. My uncle and aunt were very supportive. I went to them and said, “I have issues,” and they said, “Yeah, we’re praying for you.” I honestly can’t remember who knew aside from my immediate family and a couple of friends. Other than that, I’m gonna have to feel it out and see.
You mentioned feeling embarrassed and that you have to atone for what you did. Why? If it’s a health issue …
Well, I don’t like upsetting people, and I do understand that it is a health issue, but I feel that I should’ve been able to make a better choice and instead, I gave up. I very rarely give up on anything or anyone, and I gave up on myself, which is not the human spirit. I allowed my disease to take over, and I succumbed. I lost my pride. That’s where the embarrassment comes from. My cousin died of cancer two years ago, and he never stopped fighting, and he never gave up his will to live. How come I couldn’t do that? Waking up and being alive and continuing to live and make improvements should’ve made up for the embarrassment and shame, but it didn’t. Now, I’m admitting I’m not always strong, I am human, I make mistakes, and now I want to come out from that and let others know that hiding only makes the inner pain worse. Maybe the human spirit is also being strong enough to say, “I’m not as strong as I thought.” I’m not sure if any of that makes sense.
Do you still live in the same community, the same location?
What kind of response do you expect to get in the community?
I would hope it would be positive. One thing that really bothers me is that the media portrays people with mental health issues like we’re crazy and unstable and violent, we snap and go shoot up schools and all this stuff, and every time I read the comments and see what the media does, it makes me so upset. They’re lumping us into a category that’s completely not true. Unfortunately, with social media our lives are everywhere, and there are going to be some negative responses … But the majority, I think, will be supportive, will say, “Hey, that’s brave of you” and start telling their own stories, “Hey, sometimes I get really down” or “Hey, I have a mom or grandpa,” and the stories will come out because finally someone says something. I guess time will just tell. It’s not like I’m going to go on Facebook and say, “Hey, everybody, guess what I did eight years ago?” Some parents of my kids are on my friends list. I’m starting very slow, with my inner circle, and I hope to branch out from there.
What steps are needed to really open this door?
I liken it to the fact that the civil rights movement, how long that took for Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks and all of those great people that finally got the discussion going about civil rights. And I think about how in the ’80s with AIDS and how long it took to get the word out and prevention and those living with HIV or AIDS are not bad people. And you think how long it’s taken all these issues. Honestly, something like this is not gonna happen tomorrow. Like with the media, they badmouth it so much and portray it in a light that’s not fair. The stigma and taboo that go along with it: “I don’t want to say anything until someone else comes out and has the courage to say it.” Maybe that was the issue for the past eight years. I didn’t want to be called crazy and have people think I was violent or something. And I’ve been called crazy, for real, and it hurts. Even when people are joking and don’t know my past, I kind of laugh but think, “No, I’m really not. I have a disease. You can’t see it, but it’s still there, and I deserve to get as much help as someone with cancer or other horrible disease.”
I don’t know. That’s why the only thing I can do is reach out and get myself out there. I hope people will say, “Wow, I can’t believe you’ve been suffering for that long and didn’t say anything.”
What been useful in your treatment, and what hasn’t been useful and should be changed?
I was diagnosed when I was 19. I had my first panic attack. I thought I was having a heart attack. I went to my regular primary care doctor, and she was like, “OK, we’ll put you on pills” or whatever it was. Then it was like, “OK, see you later.” She didn’t say counseling or anything. I went on this medicine, things were fine, but as I was getting into my 20s, the pressures of life honed in on me. I graduated college, tried to find a job, my parents divorced, and I decided, “OK, maybe I need to seek out counseling, too.” I’ve been through many different counselors, I’ve been through many psychiatrists who say, “OK, maybe we up your dosage or reduce it or put you on another one.” And I say, “OK, you guys are the experts” and I go with it.
I think it’s good to have that there, to have someone to talk to, but I think they need to be on the same page. Some just let me talk but give no suggestions. The one I have, she’s very good, she lets me talk but gives me suggestions. Journaling, exercise. She wants me to get better. Apparently, she didn’t know what I tried to do, and I told her the other day. I started telling her what I want to do and she said, “That’s great, we need more people like you to start talking, and helping,”
But to answer your question, yes, the drugs have helped. I don’t get the horrible panic attacks. I don’t get into as deep, dark holes I don’t think I can climb out, like eight years ago. I know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. The one thing that doesn’t help is the friends who say, “You know, happiness is a choice. You just have to choose happy.” I would give anything, I’d give everything I have if I could just choose to be happy and let it all go, but I can’t.
There’s just no money out there for those programs. To get appointments even with my counselor, it’s just weeks out. That’s how busy they are. I couldn’t find support groups in my area for after suicide attempts. I would have absolutely no idea how to start a group. One thing my principal suggested, I guess there’s a program called Celebrate Recovery, like a church-based 12-step program, basically like AA but for anybody who feels they need to recover from something, just anything. I said, “That’s great, how come they don’t put it out there more? It’s free, with churches. There’s just nothing out there to advertise it. Plus, you have politicians who say, “Cut funding for health care, cut veterans benefits.” They think if you get rid of it, it just goes away, but it’s just making it worse.
Oh, I just thought of something. Other things that help is just knowing people care. When I do finally start talking to people, say, “Hey, I’m having issues,” I have people who say, “Hey, if you ever have to talk” … I put on Facebook that I was having issues, and a colleague messaged me out of the blue and said, “Hey, I’m here.” And I said, “Yes, I’d like to talk. You’re taking time out of your life to help me?” It just felt really good to see people care. I’m really hard at accepting help: “No, I don’t want to bother you, I can take care of myself,” but maybe they’re offering because they really do care. I’m starting to realize that now. My dad, my principal, say, “If you need to talk, come talk to us, please!” And that is very comforting.
I’ve always been that person: “I you ever need to talk, please call on me.” We live in a world where people just want to think they can take of things by themselves. That’s how I am. They don’t want to look helpless, I guess. They want to look like, “Hey, I’m strong.” But when it comes right down to it, everybody, some of us are just dying inside and putting on a happy face. If we knew people cared, maybe people would start talking.
I think about bullying, being an elementary school teacher, bullying is such a huge deal. They’re projecting what they don’t like about themselves in an effort to make themselves feel better, not realizing they’re hurting the person they’re bullying, like a vicious cycle.
Do you ever see anything in your students, issues that concern you?
Yes. I can’t go into too much detail, but I have students who don’t get any support at home, don’t get nurturing, and they get attention anywhere they can get it, any attention is good. I think about those kids as they get older, what will they do, will it be good or bad? I have kids who already suffer from anxiety, and wow, they’re already suffering from anxiety from the pressures of life, to perform, and I feel for them because I know exactly where they’re coming from. I just let them know I’m here. Being the child of divorced parents, I say, “Hey, I’m here for you.” Most probably won’t take me up on it, but just being able to tell them they know somebody who really cares about it …
With your other issues, is 5th grade the place to connect?
Unfortunately not. Even though I am their teacher, I still … And I know it’s out there, I was doing some statistics-searching and it’s the third leading cause of death from 10- to 24-year olds, and I was stunned by that. That a fifth grader would think about that. But I don’t think it’s my place to talk about that unless I got permission from my parents. I think it’s more likely in junior high and high school. But as a teacher in 5th grade, I would feel uncomfortable because I don’t know what I could say, liability issues involved. That’s why we have counselors, school psychologists and, to be honest, why we have parents. We live in a society where everything’s out there. Parents really need to have that dialogue with their kids. I can honestly tell you I know of students at my school who unfortunately suffered the loss of parents because of suicide. And I could never say anything to them because I don’t know how they’d react. I mean, divorce is fine because everybody knows about it. But there are still some things these days we can’t touch upon. Maybe in 5,10 years that will change. Eventually the dialogue maybe needs to be there. Just not right now.
What will you do for yourself? To change?
Actually … Gosh. I don’t know how to go about that. I spent most of my life taking care of others, helping others. I have to figure out what makes me happy. Teaching makes me feel good, being around kids, laughing. Feeling successful makes me happy, but those are all fleeting moments. I’m not sure how to do “happy.” I think if maybe I get my story out, someone will say, “Hey, I heard your story and I decided not to go along with my plan. I’m going to try and get help.” In a way, I guess, that could make me happy.
I like being there for other people. But for myself, I just need to learn to be selfish. To me, selfish is a bad thing. I need to start taking care of myself, exercising … Gosh, I don’t know. I just need to stop being afraid. There are times I don’t like going out in public because I’m afraid if they’re looking at me, judging me. I have to say, “Hey, they look at you and then they’re gone.” That’s what I think this journey is. I need to find that inner peace and go to bed and say I’m happy. And I can wake up and say, “I’m good, this is who I am, and I’m dealing with it the best I can and helping others in the process.” I need to be able to be content with that. I have my support group. I’m not sure how to get there. Maybe a better relationship with God. Maybe recognize the warning signs that get me depressed and get away from that situation. That’s a loaded question. But I do know just in the past week I’ve felt better than I’ve probably felt in a really, really long time, and that’s the first step.
Where I was eight years ago and where I am now, it’s a complete improvement. Back then, I was in a dark hole. I really felt just there was no way out. If I took myself out of the equation, the world would be a better place. I had all these issues going on in my head. It just mushroomed. I didn’t plan it. I know a lot of people do. I didn’t. I snapped. I remember driving home sobbing, thinking, “Please, a car just take me out, something.” I remember swallowing Tylenol by the handful and thinking, “OK, it’ll be done.” But now I can say, “Yeah, I’m much more content than I was.” But I know I still have a long road, and I know I will never, ever do that again because I know I can pick up my phone and talk to somebody, and I know now in the past week that people will say, “Great, let’s talk.” And I thought eight years ago nobody gave a darn. And I know now it’s wrong. I just wasn’t willing to ask for help. And now I’m willing to ask.
I’m sitting here looking at my apartment. I have pets now. After my attempt, I got a cat and thought, “OK, that’ll help.” And that was the greatest thing I’d ever done. Then I got more. They are therapy, too. They need me like I need them. I started improving my job, getting better as a teacher, and now I’m an awesome teacher. Everything is good, and now there’s this one thing I have to do. I have to say, “I’m Alexis, I suffer from depression, I tried to take my own life and, you know what, it’s going to be OK because now I’m willing to admit it. And if you need to talk, I’m here for you.”
Who else are you?
I feel that I am somebody whose journey is just beginning. I’m gonna be 34 in April, and I thought my life started when I graduated from college and got my first teaching job. It turns out that’s a great part of my life. I can look in the mirror and say “Wow, you’ve made it,” but maybe my life is starting right now. I’ve questioned that a lot, asked, “What is my purpose in this world?” I thought it was to be a teacher, and it is, or half of it is, and maybe the other half is I need to help other people like me, and maybe this sounds like a cliche, but changing the world in some small way. Everybody changes the world in some way, either they do it quietly or with a lot of show. Maybe I’m just finally realizing what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. And maybe it’s not what i thought it would be, but that’s OK.
Maybe in another year I can give another answer to this question, a better answer, but now it’s completely new and scary, and there will be times I will ask, “Why did I decide to do this?” but at the end of the day, I’ll say, “OK, this is me and I’m doing the right thing.” But you know what, I don’t want to be that person who gets down by that and retreat into myself. I know now there are places and people I can talk to and be more open. So yeah, it’s a hard question to answer. I think I’m gonna be … I’m gonna be different. I’m gonna be a new Alexis, and now I have renewed hope and faith for the future. Yeah.”