My first encounter with Peer Support

Peer support found me long before I knew what peer support was. I was 18 and had been living in Altamont, Utah, after my first mental health episode had happened, requiring me to move back from Salt Lake City to my parents' home.

I missed my friends. Not much was happening in Altamont, UT. However, occasionally my mom would need to come to the city, and so one particular day in the fall, I rode from Altamont to Salt Lake City with her. 

We were riding around the Millcreek area, and we were headed to eat at one location, when I asked her to change plans out of the blue and go to Coffee Garden. I had no reason to change my mind on eating at Cafe Rio, which I loved. But alas, I spoke up and quickly pivoted us to the Coffee Garden. 

It was just a whim.

When we got to the coffee shop, it became clear why I had a sudden whim and changed plans mid-route. On the patio of the Coffee Garden was my friend.

It was my friend who had schizophrenia. On the patio, he was drawing and writing. It was clear that he was going through it.

We caught up on all that had been going on for him and how I was doing. He said he had lost his phone and didn’t have my digits anymore, so we updated each other with our new cell phone numbers and parted ways. I returned to Altamont, and he remained in the city.

A week later, I got a phone call from that schizophrenic friend in the middle of the night. He was crying, distressed, and disoriented. I asked questions, and he said he had been trying to call for help, but no one was picking up their phones. He said he was bleeding and had cut his wrists badly.

He didn’t know exactly where he was, but I had enough insight to keep him talking on my cell phone while I grabbed my parents' landline and called a friend who lived in the city, who was a mutual acquaintance. Fortunately, they answered. We worked together to connect them with my friend, who was in a crisis on the streets of the city. They got him to the ER. It was lucky. His cuts were deep, he had lost a lot of blood, and could have easily passed out in the dark, and who knows what the outcome would have been.

I am so grateful he’s still alive today, I am so grateful, my mom changed course on a whim so we could swap phone numbers. I am so grateful our mutual acquaintances answered their phones and went out to help find and get our buddy to the ER for care.

Life moves in mysterious ways.

That was when I knew that a peer could save a life.

That is when I had confirmation that we need each other.

My faith in strange physics was born that day! Despite all the unlikely odds, somehow, we converged at Coffee Garden. I followed an "impulse" which landed me at the right place at the right time to be a resource for him when he would need one.

We are all connected.

How often do we dismiss those “gut instincts”?

I am learning to listen to mine. Maybe there is a hidden network in the field of consciousness that doesn’t require a cell phone to signal through?

Maybe whatever is in me is whatever is in you, too?