Safe

"Are you safe?"

It's a question I have answered countless times over the years, especially in the last 12 months. Tonight, however, I was the one who turned and asked another this small query. I asked someone else in my DBT Skills Group.

When you suffer from a mental illness, you often become very aware of signs that show one is not "well." You notice changes in appearance, mannerisms, posture. You become aware of "clue words" people may speak, or even the words they don't speak but express with their face. You may even just have an intuitiveness or emotional connection, a strong sense of empathy towards others.

I knew tonight it was my turn to ask the question, my turn to be that hand outstretched, my turn to be the life guard. I knew my question would need no explaination, and I knew that the person would answer honestly if asked. After all, most people with mental illness don't try to hide their suicidal thoughts if you call them out on it: nobody really wants to die, they just want help to end the pain.

"Are you safe?"
"Right now, I think so."
"Here, let me give you my number. I'll remind you to use your skills."

Without hesitation, I offered my number. I glanced at our DBT coach, making sure she approved, and she smiled. I knew in that moment I'd done something right, maybe for the first time in a long time, I'd done something to be proud of myself for doing.

"I think it's a great idea that you guys keep each other accountable, bring each other up, remind each other to do your homework."

So, tonight, for the first time since starting DBT, I felt connected to the group as we all excitedly exchanged numbers. There's been so much flux, so many members coming and going, that I had started to feel I was the only one committed to working towards "a life worth living." But this time, the group seems different, and I'm so glad. The best part? I was the one who reached out to initiate this, I was the one to ask instead of answer the question.

"Are you safe?"