suicide cw

There’s a #BoycottTheMail hashtag going around

Good. Here’s the story of Lucy Meadows and her death.

Nor was it just biased reporting. Some columnists – the Daily Mail’s Richard Littlejohn led the way – simply used their columns, read by millions of people to attack a woman who wanted only to live her life in peace.

Littlejohn wrote a piece headlined: “He’s not only in the wrong body … he’s in the wrong job”, seemingly oblivious to the grief caused by misgendering Lucy. His focus was “the devastating effect” on pupils of Lucy’s change in gender.

“Why,” he asked, “should they be forced to deal with the news that a male teacher they have always known as Mr Upton will henceforth be a woman called Miss Meadows?”

Lucy was all about protecting those closest to her: friends, family, myself. So she worked hard to give the impression that this was annoying but she was dealing with it.

Still, when she came to spend that Christmas with us, I could tell that she was quite low. A friend, someone she had been falling in love with, had recently died. The hormones were continuing to have an effect. And it seemed the press were not going away any time soon.

We got through January, but it was hard to shake the sense that the press damage had gone deep. On 7 February, Lucy made her first suicide attempt. Or rather, she explained, she made her practice run. Because this was the only rational solution.

Lucy Meadows was a transgender teacher who took her own life. Her story must be remembered

Lucy Meadows was a transgender teacher who took her own life. Her story must be remembered

It’s Transgender Day of Remembrance. This is the story of the woman Richard Littlejohn and the Daily Mail hounded to her death.



requested by anonymous

you think it’s so dumb to leave a note, don’t you? well, i have a story about leaving a note.

I was gonna kill myself. I was just gonna drive into a rock. And I don’t know why, but I looked up and I saw this plume of smoke… and it was Carol. And she saved me.

please don’t ever think that no one cares about you


I work in an ER and we see suicides all the time. And we get at least 3 suicidal ideations a night. We all care about you. I promise, we do. A team of complete strangers who have worked 3+ 12 hour shifts this week who are being screamed at all day and night and probably haven’t had lunch and trust me, we still love you and care about you.

We had a 16 year old patient last night who we couldn’t save. We were in that room with this patient for over an hour, we did everything we could.
And let me tell you, we all cried. The EMT’s, the nurses, the doctor. We all huddled together in the doctors dictation room and cried.

I went through the rest of my shift with smudged mascara and tracks on my cheeks.

I remember the names of all the patients that have taken their lives on my shifts.

I remember squeezing the hands, smoothing the hair, kissing the foreheads, and wiping away the blood and the vomit of every patient that has left me too soon.

I can still see every face that I have zipped into a body bag.

Trust me, someone cares about you. You have never met them yet. You don’t ever think about them. They are never remembered when you talk about heroes and role models.

But someone loves you.


Last month I wrote an Adventure Time fanfic in which Simon, horrorstruck by the person the crown is turning him into, is contemplating suicide when Death himself turns up and talks him out of it. Okay, so far, so kindasorta bleak. But:

That line up there is said from Death to Simon, right at the end, when Simon asks what Death itself could possibly be afraid of. And something about it just got to me. I mean, damn do I relate to Simon – everything that happened to him is a pretty heavy metaphor for mental illness and I’ve got that in spades. And the idea that one’s devotion to willpower and survival could make Death afraid of you was apparently an idea I needed to hear. And also apparently had in my brain somewhere.

So me and my boyfriend made this – he did the drawing for me and I scrawled the text on. I’m keepin’ it around, and on here, just as a reminder…