survivors of suicide

My uncle commited suicide two years before I was born. He hung himself in his flat. By all accounts, he was a perfectly "normal", cheery person. Lotsa fun to be around. It was only when they found his diary after his death that they discovered how depressed he actually was.

Also, my brother tried to commit suicide once. We shared a room when I was 14 and he was 21. He was severely depressed. He drank alot and abused drugs. He'd been prescribed all manner of anti-depressants and also he was given sleeping tablets. Though I noticed he had no trouble sleeping. He stocked up the sleeping tablets and one night tried to take them all in one go. Luckily my mother heard him making noise, I was paralysed with fear, and she made him throw up, getting the tablets out of his system. Thankfully now he's a recovering alcoholic and recovering drug addict and I'm extremely proud of him. He overcame his problems and now he's doing well in life. So all hope is never lost.

 

When I was 10 my mom attempted suicide and ended up in a mental hospital. She was (and is) an unmedicated bipolar. When I was 12, a girl I went to school with committed suicide. We hated each other, which led to immense guilt on my part. Ever since, I've been totally petrified of finding the body of a suicide victim or having someone I know commit suicide. I worry every time I have a fight with someone and they stomp out of the room or hang up on me. I called my friend once with a full-fledged panic attack because my then-husband hung up on me during a fight when I was out of town, then didn't answer his phone for over an hour. Turned out his phone died and he went to the store while it charged.


I've thought about suicide, especially when my marriage was crumbling, but I never attempted it or even seriously considered it. Mainly because of my mom. I knew how much even an attempt can fuck up those around you and I didn't want to do that to those I love. Also, I didn't want my son to have to grow up without a mom for no good reason.

Thankfully, I'm past that phase now. I kicked the hubby out and we're getting divorced and I'm feeling SO much better. I hope things never get that bad again.

 

Sorry guys i deleted it i was rahter embarressed...

Matt~

 

To all of you...

 

I've survived it 15 times damn it. Just smoke some drugs and you'll be fine.

 

There is so much sadness in this thread. My heart goes out to everyone who has experienced this.

I'm looking at the original question and this was my experience. I screwed around with the idea until I was 24 and then attempted. It was a very dark time in my life and I though other people would be better off without me around. I was not aware that I was important to others.
The pain of living that way is unbearable and some people who suffer from bi-polar disorder ect.. are brave as hell for hanging in there as long as they do.

What I didn't understand was that I was going through some really hard changes and didn't know how to cope. I felt like I was dying inside and so I took it literally.
Now I call this 'little death' and for me it's when I'm shedding a skin - or a way of living that doesn't work anymore. I think people do this shedding, all the time.

My Dad and brother completed suicide and they were both at an intense time of change. I also leaned as a young girl that suicide was an option when things went dark. My dad tried 7 times before he completed.

One of the coolest things I've learned is that when the 'little death' is ending, out of it comes a new way of living. It reminds me of the bird that rises from the ashes and gets' new wings.
The things that helped me cope were being willing to talk about my life with people who did not judge me, having a creative outlet, dancing, music, and becoming educated about the things that were causing me so much trouble.
Also, helping others helped me.
These are two books that helped me understand my family's pattern of suicide and my own.
' When madness comes home ' and ' Night falls fast'.
Don't let the titles scare you. They are written with love, wisdom and knowledge.

Loving thoughts to everyone who's survived in one way or another.
Winny

 

the most fucked up thing about a failed suicide, is you basically have to live the rest of your life with someone who tried to kill you.

 

I have tried to kill myself a few times..
Sometime i feel really depressed and then I feel like I can´t go on..
Life is hard some times
I cut myself sometimes when i fell sad, it feels good and the panic just float away..I know it´s bad..I just Can´t stop. My therapist helps me alot. I love her <3

/LaLuna

 

I went through that stage one time. aaah, what a stage... adn there are plenty mroe liek tit to coem im sure. I did all the research on methods that I could. I learned to tie a noose, how to prepare the rope, how much drop ill need, where to position the knot. I also looked up meds and household chemicles, what does what, and I know what I would use (definetly NOT lime away and bleach, sure it kills ya, but the way it works is slow and horrifying. y

 

hey,
i'm a survivor in that my little brother committed suicide 12 years ago (he was 16, i was 24).

 

I'm a survivor, I'm gonna make it... *mumble*

 

"the most fucked up thing about a failed suicide, is you basically have to live the rest of your life with someone who tried to kill you."

I love this quote,that is how I see it.lol. Humour can get you through tough times and I have a well developed sense of the ironic.I am a survivor of my own attempts.I grew up in hell,with a depressed,violent mother and mentally unstable older sibling.I 'll spare the details,but I felt old and worn out before my time.I had low self esteem and no idea how to form healthy relationships. I married young, to an idiot who demanded my attention and time and gave nothing to me but grief - and children, one after the other.I was 19 with two kids,a millstone of a husband round my neck and I was so tired, I couldn't see any other logical way to get peace,rest and silence. I felt I was useless and my kids would be better without me. I had no hope. I failed because of something very strange - on the night I tried, a close friend I hadn't seen for ages was busy, successfully jumping to his death from a tall building. I saw him,spoke to him, he told me to go home, I thought I hallucinated him,I 'd taken enough pills to kill three or four people and ran off into woods near my home. I did as he said - he was always good at advising me/telling me off and I never thought about how he could have been there or why, I just did what he said.I was rushed to ER in a Police van,they saw me staggering on the road [ I was in a nightshirt and barefoot -it was November] they couldn't wait for the ambulance, apparently, I lived outwith the city at the time.I was rescusitated successfully, but,it took me a long time to get over my desire to leave the world and I made a few other [half hearted ]attempts. I finally realised that it was up to me to break the chain,the abuse stops with me - I was the only one who could teach and love my kids like I never was - to make them strong and whole.I began my life anew,mostly to spite my mother -but it grew from there.I had to learn how to love and how to like myself, it was strange and difficult but I got there.There is a lot more to my story but I have a hard time talking of it,I don't want my past to define me. I was angry with my friend for many years -he left me here and I never got to tell him how much he meant to me, I was annoyed that he did it and then had the cheek to protest to me about my own attempt - but holy fuck,he cared enough to stop by on his journey to the shadowlands, he cared enough to tell me I had something to live for, unlike him [I 've not told anyone that part until now] I think he was wrong, he should have stayed around but he always told me he would die young,I thought he meant it as a joke.By the way,much later on, when I was calm enough to ask about it,I found out that he had died shortly before I took off into the woods.I missed his funeral because I was in hospital for a while and they wouldn't let me leave the ward ,never mind go outside.I was angry about that too.I wasted a lot of time being angry. I could have presented this better ,it's rambly and confusing but I just wrote it as it came.Sorry.Life is worth the struggle,but someone who is determined to end it,will find a way no matter how you try to prevent them. The way I see it now is that I am still here for a reason, I have since found happiness and peace and the sun does rise for those who walk in darkness,eventually -one more day at a time,just take one more day,each day.Geri.

 

I only tryed once and it was when I was 11 for some stupid reasson. I look back on it and wonder why any one would try to die over such a thing and it makes me think that all the things I think I would kill my self over now will truly be bad reasson in a few years.
Some times its hard to see past this momment.

 

I have attempted suicide four times, almost succeeded twice. I ended up in the intensive care unit then the local mental health facility, I did not want to be there at first, untill I realized I was not as alone, There were many people there facing the same pain I was. I accepted the treatment and the group therapy . I went home and began to live life again, It wasn't easy and I did relapse, but countinued to see my therepist who is a very wonderful person I must add, now three years it's been. I'm now a very happy person , I love life and this all without medication. I just had to wake from my own personal nightmare.

Just remember better days are ahead even though they seem so distant.

 

I've attempted twice, both times trying to O.D. on sleeping pills. I was about to say I've been hospitalized recently but that was almost a year ago. I was institutionalized
for a month. I still feel empty on the inside, whether I am surrounded by friends or doing the things I used to love. The only thing I do now is sit with my own thoughts.

 

I've attempted 3 times.
Wasn't serious until the 3rd time.
I miss the [mental] hospital.
I keep having dreams I'm back there and it makes me miss it sooooo much.

 

I feel like I can't go on sometimes, but I find that life gives you little miricles sometimes just when you need them the most.

 

First time when I was seven, tried to hang myself. As far as I can tell I heard voices at the time, and couldn't take them anymore. My brother talked me out of it, and never told our parents. I worry a lot that it's part of the reason he has anxiety issues now.

There've been a few attempts (and a lot of thoughts about it) for the past couple years, after the mini-abuse happened. The one I remember most was trying to run into oncoming traffic in Paris. (I feel so ashamed.) The feelings still come and go, but I've pretty much got a handle on them.

Also my fiance was suicidal when I first got to know him. Once, he emailed me a suicide note and I didn't hear from him for a week because he was in a psych ward. It scared me to death, I almost had a complete mental breakdown because I didn't know if he was alive or dead.

That experience, and one of my friends dying in an accident last year, have really deterred me from any more attempts. I would never want to make anyone else go through that... especially my mother, she lost her brother when she was young, then her mother and father in the space of two years; and my fiance lost both his parents in a short time too when he was young. What that would do to them, I don't even want to think about...

 

I have tried a couple of times to commit suicide. I think it was about 3, and they were all over the course of about 1-2 years. The first time I had my dad's gun in my hand, fiddiling around with the bullets and taking them out of the chamber. I loaded it up and held it to my head, although i couldn't pull the trigger. I even went as far as doing it in the shower so it would minimize the mess that had to be cleaned.

The second time I tied a bag over my head and tied my hands behind my back, i could feel myself not being able to breath and almost blacking out, somehow I got my hands through my legs and pulled apart the bag.

The third time, and this is the one where I dont even know why i am alive today, I took a bottle of Tylenol PMs, and counted the pills. I counted 30 pills, which contain 500mg acetaminophen and 25 mg diphenhydramine. This was about 15-17g or so of acetaminophen and 900 dip(benedryl).
This was probably the worst night of my life. I woke up in the morning and threw up several times, and my vomit was green. I saw some of the capsuls in the vomit. Everytime i think about this i feel like i could throw up, maybe even just by looking at the bottle.

Now I am not someone who believes in God, but I keep asking myself why am I still here after that, i mean...i should be gone..right?

Hopefully I will find the answer later in my life.

 

I suffer seriously from depression. I got myself shot once by the police attempting "suicide by cop". Don't have any pat answers for anyone but I have learned from experience never to trust my perceptions to accurately represent reality when I am depressed. When I am depressed my perceptions are severely warped by depression, so if people aren't talking to me, for example, I assume everyone hates me. Not trusting my perceptions when I'm depressed is an important part of managing my depression now.