Gold Coast woman bares soul about depression and suicidal thought in bid to help other women

KYLA Thoms is dreading this story. She also thinks it may save lives.

Kyla Thoms has launched an online support group for women battling inner turmoil. Photo: Richard Gosling

PART of Kyla Thoms is dreading this story. Then there’s the courageous part that believes what she’s about to tell the world may just save lives.

“I don’t think anyone other than my husband really knows the extent of my depression,” the 40-year-old says of a battle she has waged since she was a schoolgirl.

“My mum knows a lot but to actually acknowledge I sometimes get suicidal is another level. People can’t go there.

“I don’t think most people can comprehend the depth of that word ‘depression’.”

Kyla Thoms with husband Jason during a recent trip to America.

Kyla is telling you this because she’s had enough.

Enough of learning another female friend or acquaintance has killed herself, three in the past three months alone.

Enough of seeing women compelled to portray the most perfect of lives on social media when the reality is so much different.

Enough of being one of them.

In recent weeks Kyla, a lifelong Gold Coaster with countless ties across the city, quietly launched Blue Glitter, an online support group for women wanting a safe place to share their stories or receive words of wisdom from people who know exactly how it feels to live a lie.

“So many women are putting their lipstick on and sparkling during the day, but internally they just aren’t coping,” she says.

Kyla Thoms at her Biggera Waters home. Photo: Richard Gosling

“I know how they feel. It’s like you’ve got a closet secret but I want to be a voice to stand up and say ‘It’s OK that you feel this way, you’re not the only one’.”

From the outside, Kyla’s life does indeed appear idyllic.

Happily married to Jason. Regional vice-president of international skincare firm Arbonne. An apartment overlooking the Broadwater. Respite foster carers. A vibrant social life. A pet pooch called Leroy.

What her Facebook posts don’t show is the Kyla who barely completed Year 10 after being struck down by clinical depression as an 11-year-old.

“I’d miss months of school at a time,” she recalls. “We never called it depression. We just said I was getting sick again.

“I would feel this fog or cloud come over my brain and I’d say ‘Mum, it’s starting’. I wouldn’t be able to feel, taste or smell. I was crying constantly, not wanting to come out of my bedroom.

Kyla Thoms with husband Jason and little Leroy. Photo: Richard Gosling

“It would initially go for two weeks, then four, then two months and three months. It once lasted three and a half months in my 20s and then it would just lift. I’d get my taste and smell back, my sense of reality, and be able to go back into society.”

Kyla’s parents fought incredibly hard for her. They took her to psychiatrists and psychologists. After leaving school, she spent years on a disability support pension.

Amid the gloom though, there was always Jason.

“We met as teenagers and I remember she would just drop off the face of the Earth,” he says.

“We started dating when she was 18 and one time when she was sick she finally told me why … nothing bothers me too much. When you meet someone you love, you tend to take the good with the bad.”

That love — and knowing someone women don’t have it — is part of Kyla’s motivation for founding Blue Glitter.

Kyla Thoms, right, has spoken of her crippling battle with depression in a bid to help other women. She is pictured with husband Jason (rear) and her parents.

“I said to Jason ‘Where do the women who don’t have you or my mum turn’,” she says. “They don’t have anyone.

“If only my friend who committed suicide could’ve turned somewhere safe and said how she was feeling, maybe her parents wouldn’t have had to bury her.”

Don’t be fooled by Kyla’s strength in sharing her story.

Rather than coming in waves, her depression is now a daily battle. At times, it is also unbearable.

“Only a couple of days ago I took our dog for a walk across the road and looked over at that blue building and thought ‘Yep, the top floor looks pretty good’.”

Her husband adds: “She’ll wake up and say ‘I want to end my life today’ and I’ll spend a couple of hours talking through it ... all I know is talking about it is better than coming home and finding her not alive.”

As is talking about it publicly in a bid to save a stranger’s life.

“Mum actually sent me a message today,” Kyla smiles. “She said she was proud of me for talking to you.”

Visit Kyla’s Instagram or Facebook.

HEAVY WORDS

On hope: “I remember an optometrist once putting glasses on me and everything was crisp, the clouds were clear, and that’s what I keep thinking is going to happen (mentally) one day, but I’m 41 this year and it’s still as strong as ever.”

On the facade: “People comment that I always wear lipstick and make-up but if they saw me without it, they wouldn’t recognise me. I just feel I’m not attractive. People think you’re up yourself or vain but doing my hair and make-up isn’t for other people. It’s to make me feel better.”

Kyla Thoms with husband Jason: “We’re all so busy pretending everything is great.”

On language: “I used to say I suffer from depression but I changed that years ago to ‘I live with depression’ ... I couldn’t attend an event on the weekend and rather than just saying ‘I’m tired’, I’ve actually started telling Mum ‘Today’s not a good day’.”

On social media: “We know life isn’t perfect but do we broadcast it on social media? No. Do you post that you were screaming at your husband or children this morning? That is real life but we’re all so busy pretending everything is great.”