*trigger warning - there is suicide talk in this piece*
I am buzzing with excitement lately.
Last week I was accepted onto a pre-accelerator program that’ll elevate Studio Bangs in ways that have felt impossible up til now. Over 60 people applied for the program and I was one of ten people selected for the final cohort. After grafting away for months on building this business all by myself, it has felt insanely rewarding to present it to some people and have them say ‘wow, we really think you’ve got something here.’
The battle has felt uphill. Undoable. Futile, most days.
This program has been the affirmation I’ve needed at just the right time.
Because listen, the truth is, picking your life up and moving half way across the country, in your 40s, with no job lined up and no prospects, is not easy. Add a language barrier into that and you may find yourself spiralling a little.
And spiral, I did.
Truthfully, I’ve had a six month stretch where I’ve thought about suicide every day.
That is not an easy sentence for me to write and I know I have friends and people who know me personally who read this - I’m sure it’s not an easy sentence for you to read.
It’s hard to describe what being in the depths of that feels like. It’s scary. Battling those thoughts every day is exhausting. And it is a battle, a true fight. I’m a passionate person, in all areas of my life, particularly my work. Not having an outlet for that the first few months of being here was tough mentally and emotionally, sure, but practically? In terms of just being able to physically survive day to day? Damn near impossible. I know everyone is feeling this pinch of this cost of living crisis (unless you are a literal billionaire) but there were way too many times where I concluded that it is actually just simply too expensive to be alive.
I have convinced myself over and over, I would not be missed. In a city where I don’t even really know anyone, it’d be weeks most likely before anybody even found me. I can say, if not for Biggie, I’m not sure I’d still be here.
But in amidst all of that, as I have cried and felt my heart race and wanted to end it all so badly, something deep down would say ‘just try to hold on til tomorrow.’
And as hard as they were, the tomorrow’s kept coming.
And I stayed for them.
I didn’t know what or how or when or why, but that voice kept telling me it’d be worth it.
So I kept showing up, on the spin bike, for my coaching clients, because in those spaces, I can see hope, I can feel my purpose. Connecting with that gave me a literal lifeline.
I have spent six months smiling and pedaling and sweating through it, to honour that voice in me telling me not to stop.
And around February, I noticed, the dark thoughts weren’t taking up quite as much of my day. It felt like that weight on my chest was lifting a little. It wasn’t something I could explain or understand, but it finally felt like I could see a light.
So I just kept moving towards it.
And The Universe kept giving me all these signs, like a fresh, untouched snowfall, or Biggie snuggling up next to me, or angel numbers everywhere, or lifting a heavier weight, or an insanely colourful sunrise, or a song that made me dance - like she was saying ‘Look! Look at all these beautiful things you love! I’ll give you more of them if you stay.’
My business mentor telling me about the pre-accelerator was one of those nudges from The Universe. It was another way for me to move towards the light, to pull myself up.
Being accepted onto it was confirmation; that the hard work was not in vain, that while it may feel like I’ve been screaming into a void, it has all mattered.
Maybe, just maybe, all those months in the dark were there to help me appreciate just how good it can feel when the light comes.
What I’ve learned is that in that sea of darkness, when a glimmer of light appears in your heart, hold onto it hard. Talk to it, nurture it, let it know you want it to grow. Let it encourage you to hold on til tomorrow.
The good things keep coming if you stay.
It is hard to read, but my guess it was so much harder to write and f*ck me, the hardest to live through. Thank you Bangs for sharing and opening up this dark chapter to us, and I’m so sorry you had to survive that. Without a doubt, it will make someone feel seen and less alone in their darkest hour… sharing how you have saved your own life can inspire others to do the same. You are so very loved my girl, clearly by those who know you, and by those of us who are cheering you on from the sidelines. x