Suicide
People are afraid to talk about suicide. Either they are afraid because someone may take them seriously and lock them up, or they are afraid to put ideas into someone else’s head. It’s more taboo than sexuality, religion or politics. Today, I am here to talk about it.
I truly believe that not talking about suicide is dangerous. In my case, I have attempted suicide a total of four times, once in my twenties, the others in my teens. That does not mean that I have not thought about suicide at other times, and yet I consider myself more emotionally healthy than most people. The reason is because I’m not afraid to talk about how I feel as much.
It was always when I was done talking, that the attempts became more probable. People who talk about suicide are looking for help. Yes, they may also be looking for attention: in high school we had a friend who, when told she cold not attend an outing with us, handed her parents a suicide note, then sat at the kitchen table and started taking pills. She didn’t want to die, she just wanted to know someone cared.
Often, that is what suicidal feeling come down to-knowing someone cares. As an adult, the only time I seriously considered suicide involved excruciating pain from an unknown cause, and the medications that tried to remedy that pain. That is not to say that I don’t think of suicide. Every damn day I wonder if the world would be better off without me, as I am forced to sit by and watch my loved ones suffer without being able to do anything for them. With my husband’s cancer combined with financial ruin caused by my health issues and the loss of life-long dreams, the future looks bleak.
The fact is, everyone usually gets over a suicide. It’s one more death we are forced to process or let it destroy us. As humans we are designed to be survivors, so we learn to process such painful experiences. For some of us it makes us stronger, more insightful, more caring. For others it makes us more bitter, less hopeful, takes away our faith. However we have figured out to deal with death, we manage. Yes, some other people may let it destroy them to the point where they themselves commit suicide over a loved one, but this is rare, because they see how suicide affects others.
This is what brought me out of my suicidal tendencies. In AA they say once you are an alcoholic, you are always an alcoholic. I used to think that applied to suicides too, but I no longer agree. It took me years to realize that feeling like you want to die, is not being suicidal. It’s the willingness to act on it. I speak to lots of people who share the secrets they feel can be told to no one, and that means a lot of talks about suicide. These talks and my own introspection has caused great revelations in my understanding.
Such as the understanding that talking about suicide is different than acting on it, or even wanting to die. There is nothing wrong with acknowledging these thoughts. The problem comes when your actions begin to follow; when you cannot control the directions of your thoughts. It is normal to wonder if the world would be better off without you. It is normal to lose faith in moments when life is just too hard.
This is when it becomes crucial to talk to someone. That someone is not always a professional with their outlines of expectations and institutionally defined interceptions. These professionals might be exactly what you need to pass through a particularly tough moment, or you may even find yourself in need of medication. These are not things to be ashamed of. Rather other people will admit it or even see it for themselves, everyone has at least moments of just not knowing how to progress without aid.
So more often the real help a potential suicide needs comes from someone with little to no experience. It’s a person who doesn’t likely know how important they are to the lives of others. It’s someone knowing the individual well enough to have an understanding of their circumstances, without them having to explain where they are in life. Then they can take their understanding and listen with sympathy as the potential suicide pours out their exasperations and worries.
To listen can be as difficult as living the situation. You love them, so you want to fix the problem. People who feel bad enough to contemplate suicide don’t need to be fixed. They may need an extra hand to guide them. They definitely need a sympathetic ear that can also rebuild the strength expended in the purge of those feelings. This cannot be successfully done in a an hours session. It takes time to know the person, to know the situation, and to understand the priorities of that potential suicide. Y the time the professionals get to all of that, the suicide has given up on finding someone who understands them.
A few of us are lucky enough to know other people who have felt this way and have survived. For some it’s still a daily struggle, not just with the thought of potential release, but to keep a knife away from inflicting physical wounds that represent the emotional carnage. It’s easier to share that with someone you know has felt the same way.
That is rarely Mom or Dad. We fear being emotionally honest with them because we don’t’ want to hurt them any further, and we know they are hurting already. In our minds it has something to do with whatever we may have done wrong. We are afraid to talk to other adults because they will want to lock us away from the things we feel keep us going; no one wants to deal with out problems, they just want us to go away until we feel better. We don’t want to share with friends because they have problems of their own, and what if they tell?
If/when you feel so bad you want to end your life, don’t be afraid to share those thoughts with someone. Even if you can’t find the right person, write about it, draw pictures, find a way to express yourself. Leave the area, rather it is going for a run, or a trip, or even moving away. You’ll likely still have the same problems, but a new place can give you a new perspective, and that can keep you alive to fight another day.
If you love someone whom you think might be suicidal, talk to them. Tell them in as many ways as you can that they make a difference in their lives. There are specific memories I can hold on to when my heart is breaking. The way my AbbyCat can’t give me enough hugs when she sees me. Learning that my cousin and his wife trusted me first with some of the most significant information of any humans’ life. Knowing that just my presence can make my husband fight through his cancer to consume medications and nutrients.
Even knowing these things, I can’t help those dark moments when I wonder, “What’s the Frilling point?” I still don’t know. I know I am a failure by traditional standards, but I am something more that tradition knows how to define. I am not afraid of fighting for what I believe is right, but the fight can nearly defeat me. As long as it is only nearly, I can continue.
I know that I am safe. I know that the people I have surrounded myself with, understands that when I talk about suicide, I am sharing thoughts and feelings, not desires. They will not just take me to a hospital and drop me off. They will not allow a psychiatrists to take me away either. My trust is shaky, but I have it.
Trust in safety and knowing that you make a difference is the doorway to any conversation about suicide. Start there, and understand one another. Don’t cower in fear from the word or the conversations. Confront it and live. Confront it and give life.
I truly believe that not talking about suicide is dangerous. In my case, I have attempted suicide a total of four times, once in my twenties, the others in my teens. That does not mean that I have not thought about suicide at other times, and yet I consider myself more emotionally healthy than most people. The reason is because I’m not afraid to talk about how I feel as much.
It was always when I was done talking, that the attempts became more probable. People who talk about suicide are looking for help. Yes, they may also be looking for attention: in high school we had a friend who, when told she cold not attend an outing with us, handed her parents a suicide note, then sat at the kitchen table and started taking pills. She didn’t want to die, she just wanted to know someone cared.
Often, that is what suicidal feeling come down to-knowing someone cares. As an adult, the only time I seriously considered suicide involved excruciating pain from an unknown cause, and the medications that tried to remedy that pain. That is not to say that I don’t think of suicide. Every damn day I wonder if the world would be better off without me, as I am forced to sit by and watch my loved ones suffer without being able to do anything for them. With my husband’s cancer combined with financial ruin caused by my health issues and the loss of life-long dreams, the future looks bleak.
The fact is, everyone usually gets over a suicide. It’s one more death we are forced to process or let it destroy us. As humans we are designed to be survivors, so we learn to process such painful experiences. For some of us it makes us stronger, more insightful, more caring. For others it makes us more bitter, less hopeful, takes away our faith. However we have figured out to deal with death, we manage. Yes, some other people may let it destroy them to the point where they themselves commit suicide over a loved one, but this is rare, because they see how suicide affects others.
This is what brought me out of my suicidal tendencies. In AA they say once you are an alcoholic, you are always an alcoholic. I used to think that applied to suicides too, but I no longer agree. It took me years to realize that feeling like you want to die, is not being suicidal. It’s the willingness to act on it. I speak to lots of people who share the secrets they feel can be told to no one, and that means a lot of talks about suicide. These talks and my own introspection has caused great revelations in my understanding.
Such as the understanding that talking about suicide is different than acting on it, or even wanting to die. There is nothing wrong with acknowledging these thoughts. The problem comes when your actions begin to follow; when you cannot control the directions of your thoughts. It is normal to wonder if the world would be better off without you. It is normal to lose faith in moments when life is just too hard.
This is when it becomes crucial to talk to someone. That someone is not always a professional with their outlines of expectations and institutionally defined interceptions. These professionals might be exactly what you need to pass through a particularly tough moment, or you may even find yourself in need of medication. These are not things to be ashamed of. Rather other people will admit it or even see it for themselves, everyone has at least moments of just not knowing how to progress without aid.
So more often the real help a potential suicide needs comes from someone with little to no experience. It’s a person who doesn’t likely know how important they are to the lives of others. It’s someone knowing the individual well enough to have an understanding of their circumstances, without them having to explain where they are in life. Then they can take their understanding and listen with sympathy as the potential suicide pours out their exasperations and worries.
To listen can be as difficult as living the situation. You love them, so you want to fix the problem. People who feel bad enough to contemplate suicide don’t need to be fixed. They may need an extra hand to guide them. They definitely need a sympathetic ear that can also rebuild the strength expended in the purge of those feelings. This cannot be successfully done in a an hours session. It takes time to know the person, to know the situation, and to understand the priorities of that potential suicide. Y the time the professionals get to all of that, the suicide has given up on finding someone who understands them.
A few of us are lucky enough to know other people who have felt this way and have survived. For some it’s still a daily struggle, not just with the thought of potential release, but to keep a knife away from inflicting physical wounds that represent the emotional carnage. It’s easier to share that with someone you know has felt the same way.
That is rarely Mom or Dad. We fear being emotionally honest with them because we don’t’ want to hurt them any further, and we know they are hurting already. In our minds it has something to do with whatever we may have done wrong. We are afraid to talk to other adults because they will want to lock us away from the things we feel keep us going; no one wants to deal with out problems, they just want us to go away until we feel better. We don’t want to share with friends because they have problems of their own, and what if they tell?
If/when you feel so bad you want to end your life, don’t be afraid to share those thoughts with someone. Even if you can’t find the right person, write about it, draw pictures, find a way to express yourself. Leave the area, rather it is going for a run, or a trip, or even moving away. You’ll likely still have the same problems, but a new place can give you a new perspective, and that can keep you alive to fight another day.
If you love someone whom you think might be suicidal, talk to them. Tell them in as many ways as you can that they make a difference in their lives. There are specific memories I can hold on to when my heart is breaking. The way my AbbyCat can’t give me enough hugs when she sees me. Learning that my cousin and his wife trusted me first with some of the most significant information of any humans’ life. Knowing that just my presence can make my husband fight through his cancer to consume medications and nutrients.
Even knowing these things, I can’t help those dark moments when I wonder, “What’s the Frilling point?” I still don’t know. I know I am a failure by traditional standards, but I am something more that tradition knows how to define. I am not afraid of fighting for what I believe is right, but the fight can nearly defeat me. As long as it is only nearly, I can continue.
I know that I am safe. I know that the people I have surrounded myself with, understands that when I talk about suicide, I am sharing thoughts and feelings, not desires. They will not just take me to a hospital and drop me off. They will not allow a psychiatrists to take me away either. My trust is shaky, but I have it.
Trust in safety and knowing that you make a difference is the doorway to any conversation about suicide. Start there, and understand one another. Don’t cower in fear from the word or the conversations. Confront it and live. Confront it and give life.