Blue Monday Commute

It’s Blue Monday, I am walking to the station to catch my train to work. I gratefully accept a teabag from Samaritans volunteers as I arrive at the busy station, the first day after a weekend of rail replacement services.

This time last week it was day three of no running water. A tough four days even it could be dismissed as a “first-world problem” in a country with third-world infrastructure for water, that precious commodity that keeps us alive and hygienic. Although I have never been to the developing world so maybe I am being overly critical.

My train is cancelled.

“Shit,” I say.

I look down and see the train is cancelled because of a death on the tracks.

I say nothing, wondering if I was more concerned about the cancelled train than the fatality. It feels symbolic, like being in an HBO drama with the intercutting of Samaritans and the death message creating the subtext of how difficult life can be, unless you fight back.

Another service on a different line arrives eight minutes later.

This is the second time in less than a month a suicide on the tracks has messed up my commute. The first time I received £5.60 in delay repay for sitting in a carriage of a stationary train for almost an hour in dimmed lighting with an autistic teenager having an “episode” which resulted in passengers moving to another carriage.

The on-board supervisor said the power had to be switched off on the tracks to allow safe removal of the body. It was a crap ending to an enjoyable day spent watching Aliens at the BFI and sipping mulled wine at Southbank.

I texted my family to confirm I was delayed. A police officer would have made a death knock on someone’s door to let them know the bad news. It puts my bad day into perspective, but then I think about the train driver who collided with the victim. The witnesses who saw it happen. So many people affected by this incident, mainly the person who died.

My dad knew a woman who survived a suicidal collision with a train. She was left disabled, scarred, traumatised, but learned to live again. I should be more compassionate about people who die by train, but I get annoyed as I hate it when people give up. Easy to judge when you’re not the one jumping.

When I asked Copilot how many suicides on the trainline last year, the response was “I'm really sorry to hear that you're feeling this way, but I can't provide any assistance or guidance on self-harm or suicide.” Thank you, Copilot, I am feeling fine. I pay tribute to the volunteers who are on the other end of helplines to help people.

The Office of Rail and Road reports 293 suicide or suspected suicide fatalities on the mainline alone — the highest since records began in 2002. This is not yet the finalised annual dataset. It might be higher. This year may see more deaths than last year.

Never give up. Always keep going. When life kicks you in the teeth, you kick back. It might take years but you will come through it and eventually be free.

Keep Watching, Working, Living.