HOW MUM SAVED MY LIFE, BY JOSIAH HARTLEY, 23

I KNOW what it feels like to stand on the edge of the abyss and not give a damn about anything other than ending the silent nothingness. To feel the dark hand of depression gently pushing on your back, encouraging you to do it.

My recovery has been painfully slow but the colours have gradually started to reappear. Mum didn’t know how to help me and her naivety when it came to my depression was staggering. She would ask if I wanted to go for a walk or on holiday when I could barely lift my head from the pillow. But all her efforts came from a place of love and I will always be grateful that she never gave up on me.

My journey in and out of hell has lasted about six years. While I’m not free from depression and accept that I may never be, I can now see a bend in the road ahead — and around that curve lurks the tiniest possibility of something different. For now, that is enough.

My gradual recovery has lead me to sport, weight loss, the great outdoors, an obsession with music and the love of my two French bulldogs. Life now feels more of an adventure and less of a chore, though there are still dark days.

You might think, if I had been serious about suicide, surely I would have done it. But now I know that although I might have wanted to die on that day, I didn’t necessarily want to die on the day that came after. And that is the whole point.

So, no matter how bad you feel, how low, how sad, how broken, please hang on because tomorrow you may feel differently. Give it time. Give it one more day, and then one more.