Shimon
Shimon
I am complex, I am complete
Shimon has been living with severe depression for most of his life. It’s not easy for him to admit that, as a young person, he tried to take his own life.
My first suicide attempt was the result of depression and social isolation. In high school, I studied in Ramat Aviv even though I’m actually from the south of Tel Aviv. There were significant cultural and economic differences between these two places.
I suffered verbal abuse from people at school. Today it’s called bullying. Back then, unfortunately, this phenomenon and its consequences were not given enough attention. I can now say that I was bullied not only by students, but also by educators and teachers.
To Shimon, the environment made him feel like an irrelevant outsider. He also experienced social stigma based on sexual and gender identity.
I knew that I was homosexual. I come from a pretty closed environment which advocates, as befits ex-Soviets, the ethos of hiding things, suppressing them, and not talking about them. Even as I looked around, I did not see reflections of myself that could confirm to me that I was okay, that I had a right to exist, and that I had a place in the world.
Today, life is quite different for Shimon. He continues the process of mental health treatment and rehabilitation and devotes his time to supporting people with mental health struggles that are similar to the difficulties he experienced throughout his life.
I’m in a slightly better place. After all, it’s all relative. I’m not my condition, or my symptoms. I am complex, I am complete, I am who I am. I hope not only to create a change in the way we are seen, I hope to be the change as well.
Shimon uses coping mechanisms that he has learned over the years, as well as knowledge from personal experience, to help others and accompany them through their rehabilitation processes. He especially wants to help others who face challenges that have not yet been voiced, nor acknowledged, in general society or in the mental health and rehabilitation communities.
It’s oppressive enough to live in one closet, let alone two. I was tired of censoring myself, and I felt it was the right time and place to insist on my voice and my story. This phenomenon of silencing yourself unfortunately occurs frequently, even within the mental health and rehabilitative system in Israel.
He says it’s important to give space and the opportunity for expression to survivors of suicide attempts. This is a concept that he says is not yet an integral part of the discourse among Israeli mental health physicians.
I sometimes think that maybe it was my fault that I didn’t insist on bringing my issues to the attention of the appropriate parties that were supposed to protect me. But I was very insecure. Everywhere I went, I encountered institutional silencing, which is really a shame. I felt invisible and voiceless.
Now, I would tell anyone who encounters similar situations to say something, to alert, to complain, to share, to ask for help, and to raise a voice.
Shimon’s story is also available in Hebrew
