Well, to be honest I don’t know why I’m here. To be blunt some random guy in a gaming community suddenly linked me to this site out of the blue and I decided that what the heck, I’d share my story since I’ve had self-destructive if not suicidal thoughts lately.
My mother was my world, I was not close to any of my other immediate family members. She’d had cancer for nearly nine years when she finally passed away. My world and life collapsed. I spent a whole week doing nothing but lying in my room, I didn’t eat, I barely slept; I simply laid on my bed and watched the ceiling. After the first month I decided it was all too much and resolved to end it all. I waited for everyone to go to sleep and took a shower with a hunting knife my dad had bought me on a skiing trip. I sliced both wrists and watched my blood flow down my hands and into the drain, I lost conciousness soon afterwards. I woke up a few hours later, I’m still not sure exactly how long I was unconcious for though it was not yet light so it wasn’t all that long I suppose, I was light headed from the blood loss. My first reaction to waking up was wondering if I had died and there was indeed an afterlife, like I said I was out of it. When I realized I could still feel the water running over my skin I despaired to find that my wrists had failed to bleed out, my blood had clotted too quickly and prevented me from leaving the pain behind. I felt bitter and even betrayed though I’m still not sure why I felt betrayed, I suppose I was angry at my body which had apparently stopped my death. I sat in the shower for a long time looking at the stained tile and my clotted wrists and the knife next to me. I considered picking it up again and trying it all over again, I didn’t think I could survive twice, I realized though that I had tried, and it hadn’t worked, so for whatever reason by whatever powers I was still alive and that had to mean something. So I stood up when I could finally see straight, and staggered to my bedroom and went to sleep, a real sleep for the first time since my mother died. When I woke up I didn’t tell anyone anything, I wore long sleeves until the cuts finally healed and the scars faded and never told anyone until years later. In the six years since then I’ve tried to make my life mean something, I’m uncertain if I’ve suceeded or not; I’ve managed to build a relationship with a family I was never close to, am still in school and trying to get by. Despite the hardships however I refuse to give in to the thoughts that sometimes come back to me, thoughts of trying again and making whatever fortune smiled upon me worthless. So despite it all, I am still here, I am still trying, it hurts, but life is supposed to hurt isn’t it?
losses are heard to get over. Thoughts come back to haunt you. I can’t get away from my thoughts, even after laughing really hard, they slam into my gut and leave me weeping. I haven’t had a loss that would render me senseless yet but i know that day is coming. I exude you for being strong and living through your pain. Best wishes for the future
It sounds like you still need to talk or possibly cry about your mother with somebody who cares about what you’re feeling.
Is there anybody you can go to and say, hey, I really need to talk to somebody about my mom, could I talk to you?
Also ask for hugs. Ask anybody, even a casual friend, that you think might be likely to give you a hug. Hugs are powerful healing medicine.
I personally wouldn’t mention your suicide attempt to anybody who doesn’t already know about it, at least not initially – it tends to freak people out and stops them from hearing the rest of what you need to say. Keep in mind that many people see suicide as an ‘attention-getting’ stunt. Since they’ve never been in that situation themselves, they can’t imagine anybody else ever feeling that way either.
What they don’t think about is how much pain you were in to make suicide feel like a viable option to begin with. People pretty much can’t relate to anything they haven’t personally experienced.
Other people who’ve lost a family member to cancer are probably the only ones who are really going to understand what you’ve been through. Have you tried going to a support group for families of cancer victims?
Thanks to both of you for your thoughts and well wishes.
There is actually an addendum to the story Pulling, after the attempt I started a grief group with my school counselor and ran it all four years of high school as it’s president. It was a group for those like me that had lost family or close friends. And I’m always stealing hugs from everyone I can.
That’s great about the grief group, I hope that was helpful! And good for you for being a ‘hug stealer’ 🙂
I’m wondering, in being president of the group, is it possible that you were so busy taking care of everyone else in the group and running things that perhaps you didn’t get as much support as you yourself needed? It’s easy sometimes (especially in our culture) to think you’re ‘taking too long’ to process things or ‘being too selfish’ or ‘overreacting’,. Sometimes people compensate for these feelings of guilt by over-working. Or, working can simply be a way to distract oneself from painful feelings that a person isn’t ready to face or cope with yet.
Americans are frightened of death, in general, and we lack many of the grieving and mourning rituals that other cultures use to help people through when someone dies.
In the old days people would have wakes where they sat with the dead person and talked and cried and wailed and did whatever they needed to do. Until fairly recently in some Eastern European countries, and other parts of the world as well, there is a prescribed mourning period where people sometimes wear black for up to a year after somebody dies to signify that they’re in mourning.
By those standards, Americans are expected to process emotions at an insane and inhuman (not to mention inhumane) pace.
So, if you still need more time, take it. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise, even yourself. My father died 20 years ago (when I was 24) and it took me most of those 20 years to deal with all the various aspects of losing my father when I was still fairly young. Losing a parent is a big deal.
Anyway, I don’t mean to harp on it or harangue you. But, go easy on yourself, and ask for what you need. If someone resists giving you what you need, it’s often because they haven’t ever been through what you’ve been through, and they have no idea what it’s like. Also, many Americans are made uncomfortable by strong expressions of emotion – maybe it’s something left over from the Puritans who first started the country, who knows.
Anyway, a virtual ((((hug)))) for you.