My boyfriend had just let me know that he wasn’t anymore. He was working on the cruise ship and didn’t want them to know that he wasn’t actually old enough to be working there. I had surprised him by booking the cruise. I guess he was embarrassed to have a 16 year old girlfriend. (who probably looked all of 12 at the time)

Let’s just say…. I’ve had better weekends. I purposely mixed a lot of booze with a lot of pills, but it wasn’t enough. I survived the weekend.

If you’ve never thought about suicide, you probably wouldn’t understand. There are just times when this planet, this life, this body are just so difficult. The allure of not having to do this anymore is incredible.

When I was younger I thought everyone felt this way from time to time. I’ve since learned that there are people who NEVER think about it. There are people who don’t even consider it an option. That is as difficult for me to understand as suicide is difficult for them to understand.

How can you have lost a loved one and not considered joining them? How can you have lost a job and not considered giving up? How can you have failed at anything and not considered the peace of death? If you believe in Heaven, how can you not long for it? If you believe in reincarnation, how can you not think about something better the next time around?

Chapter One: The Problem with Suicide

The problem with suicide is that there’s no one to ask. It’s not like a movie where you can look at the reviews or talk to someone who’s been there and ask them all those burning questions you have. “How was it?” “Was it painful?” “Was the other side what you expected?” “Was there another side?” “Were you really punished for doing it?” “Did you feel guilty for putting your family through that?” “Did you feel anything?” “Would you do it again?”

No, you bring up suicide and people either don’t take you seriously and in fact, tease you and make it worse. Or they over-react and put you in a facility where someone other than you controls your drug therapy. Or they tell you to choose to be happy. Like you woke up one morning and said, “I think today is a good day to be suicidally depressed , possibly for the rest of my life, which I hope won’t be long.” Really? You think people choose this feeling?

Of course there are other problems with suicide. We’ve been programmed to believe that taking life is bad and taking one’s own life is far worse. We’ve read books and seen movies about how suicides are treated in the afterlife. They go to hell. They are banished for eternity from the company of others. They are doomed to walk the earth as disembodied spirits with no hope of redemption. The stories go on and on. It’s never good.

Then you have to consider those you leave behind. What will become of your dog? How will your family survive such an emotional blow? You could write them a note, but as discussed earlier, if they have never felt the urge to kill themselves, they will never understand and will likely blame themselves. What will happen to all your “stuff”? Who will do your job (if losing your job isn’t the reason you’re suicidal)? Of course if you’re feeling bad enough, none of these things will be enough to keep you.

Obviously, you have to consider the logistics of it, as well. How will you do it? Gun? Very messy and sometimes you pull up at the last second and don’t kill yourself. This makes your whole life situation even worse and now they’re watching you! Jump from a bridge? Might work, but I don’t think I could do that. The thought of falling would scare me more than the thought of impact. Poison? Probably a better option. If you take enough and make sure you won’t be found until you are cold. And you won’t be traumatizing innocent bystanders. Yes I think an overdose would be my choice. But people choose a lot of creative ways. Hanging, car crash, wrist slitting and many more.

If you’re religious, the thought of suicide is never supposed to occur to you, but I can tell you that at age 16 I was very religious. I went to a religious high school. I went to church every Sunday. There was no doubt in my mind of the existence of God and Heaven and Hell. But, still I thought about suicide. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t fit in. I didn’t understand all the social customs and I was constantly embarrassed by that. I was a girl and I was intelligent and in the 60’s that was not the way it was. The 60’s were all about Peace, Love and Happiness.

Much of the Happiness was accomplished with mind altering drugs, but that was OK because we were Happy and Peaceful and Loving. Of course, for some of us the time in between the drugs was a bit depressing and thoughts of leaving the physical plane permanently were always floating in and out. For myself, the physical universe was never very kind. I had ulcers by the time I was 12 and that wasn’t the beginning. But this isn’t about my personal journey. This is about suicide in general. What is it about? Why is it such a constant thought for some and not at all for others? Back to that feeling of not belonging here, not fitting in.

I tried to fit in by drinking and smoking. That would make me “cool” and less intelligent. What a great way to be like everyone else. And everyone else wasn’t considering all the ways they could kill themselves, right?

I sometimes wonder if smoking isn’t just a form of very slow suicide. If you’ve never been a smoker your immediate response to that might have been “duh”. But if you’ve ever been a smoker… the thought at least gave you pause. If you’ve ever been a smoker AND suicidal, you understand the thought much more completely. How many times have you thought of suicide and lighting up a cigarette actually helped? Might be worth studying if you’re in the academic grant location business.

Another problem with suicide is the level of commitment needed to really succeed.

Yesterday’s deep depression may have given way to an obsession with learning how to knit or cleaning out all your closets before you go. The pain that caused you to consider the deed is still there, but you’ve been temporarily distracted by something in the physical universe. Happens all the time and prolongs the life of many long enough to not feel suicidal anymore…. Until next time. And next time could be years away.

Or it could be triggered by reading something like this. Is this a depressing read for you? I guess I’m using you to process through my own feelings in an effort to really feel them so I can let them go. It’s a technique I’ve found pretty effective. Not the using you part. The experiencing the feeling part.

Try this. Step back for a minute and describe your mood. Now describe it again. Keep doing it and your mood will change. The theory is that in order to describe it you have to look at it and in order to look at it, you have to step outside of it which moves you into a different (usually better) mood. This may explain why suicide notes are usually short. If they go into detail they talk themselves out of it. Maybe only temporarily, but long enough to not go through with it…. That day……

The problem is that the thought invariably returns. Sometimes unexpectedly. Sometimes you’ll be having a perfectly good time, enjoying your loved ones, happy in your job, loving your living environment and suddenly out of nowhere the depression hits and you find yourself at the bottom of some deep black hole. You don’t want to tell anyone because, well………..
What would be the point? If you thought anyone cared you probably wouldn’t be in this black hole in the first place. And there is a feeling that is almost impossible to describe. It’s almost like a drug. Even when I know how to snap out of it, I won’t do what’s needed because this emotion is addictive. It’s terrible, but it’s so familiar and there is a certain level of comfort in that. It requires no effort. There is no energy in it. There is no desire in it. This emotion only asks you to be still. Do nothing. Sleep. It’s so easy just to stay in it. As easy as falling asleep.

Did I mention I have insomnia?

to be continued........