The Other Side of The Story

One week ago, a close family member of mine took her life.  She didn’t “commit” anything, she had a great life until about age 30 when all hell broke loose in her brain.  Her quality of life for the last two decades was terrible.  I cannot imagine what it is like to have actual “voices” in one’s head, or to sleep twelve hours at night, wake up, eat too much, watch TV, never go outside….you get the idea.  However, she had a boyfriend of 17 years, who found her.  He loved her dearly.  He has been there for her no matter what.  She had a family who kept in touch with her when she wanted to be kept in touch with.  She was on disability, and lived in a decent apartment…although cleaning was never a priority for either of them, and smoking constantly was.  She had a cat.

The week before she died, I felt awful.  I saw this terrible movie that started with a child finding her mother in a bed with a bag over her head…you get the idea…and the rest of the movie was watching her take pills and have a horrible life with a lousy sister and one awful date, while working as a janitor.  The ending watched her removing her clothing and walking into a lake, or maybe the ocean, I don’t know.  I can’t remember the name of the movie, but I know it was not “SUICIDE PERSON.”  I wish I never saw it and cannot explain why I kept watching, except I hoped for her to get a life that meant something and she cared about.  The following day, I realized someone very close to me just died.

When I originally joined this site, I thought the idea was not to talk about various ways to kill yourself, and to have a modicum of sensitivity concerning suicidal ideas.  Wrong.  Apparently everyone wants to die. Well I am generalizing, and apologies to all who are struggling and those who offer to help.

FYI, the people who are in your life (and yes, there are people in your life) will ask “WHY” for the rest of their lives.  Like the boyfriend I mentioned.  He is now in a hospital, and we worried he would kill himself since he feels terrible that he left her alone while he went to the doctor.  He can’t remove the vision of finding her lifeless body out of his mind.  She was lonely, she felt alone, she heard “voices” and I am not judging her actions. My husband remembers their final conversation and how he begged her to sit in the beautiful fall weather and walk on the beach beside the city where she lives.  It is 3,000 miles away, and he was there to pack his mother’s belongings from her apartment since she has been having small strokes.  He had the time because we’re broke, in the depths of poverty like so many others, just because of the economy.  He works, but it is “unemployment money” and 12 hour days.  Her mother is on suicide watch.  Her brother is falling apart, her father in tears for the first time in his life.

What I am saying is that if you have a little quality of life, and enough energy to get up on a daily basis, if you do not hear “voices” and have medication that works for a mental health problem, try thinking of someone besides yourself.  Stop all this hating and baiting and being pissed off.  I was raped, I was raised by a bunch of nuts, one of whom molested me.  I ran away and was resourceful enough to support myself all these years.  Sometimes I dream of them.  I have actually acted on suicidal thoughts and it didn’t work.  Thank goodness I’m not a vegetable, and my husband does not have to live with the fact that we loved one another and I decided to check out without considering how it would affect him, my friends, cousins, whoever cares even a little about me, who I haven’t alienated by not making a commitment to living, and blowing everyone off because I’m so bummed out.  I have medical problems, and sometimes it takes awhile, but eventually I do get up every day, and I do have a clean house that we have managed to keep.

I’m not a huge fan of living, but now that I am in the aftermath of someone who demanded to die and with good reason, I can see things from a different perspective.  I can walk, I can write, I can read, I can volunteer and I have done so, I can join countless groups that don’t focus on negative crap or if that is their purpose, the goal is to relieve the problem and find solutions.  I took enough asprin when I was 16, into my 80 lb body, that I was shocked to wake up.  Never mind that my “family” was demented, in fact they might enjoy the attention they might get from my actions.  I wouldn’t know.  I would be dead. My “final” attempt was about 3 years ago.  Twice I did the “garage” thing.  I’m lucky I’m not a vegetable.  I’m not all happy, and I’m not all sad.  I laugh, I cry…it’s called living.  No one on earth is HAPPY nor does anyone have to be permanently UNHAPPY unless medical or mental issues are insidious and pain is ever present.

If you have bothered to read this far, try to hold your head up if possible and think LIVING rather than SUICIDE.  Start chanting or writing or finding free stuff to do with your time.  Get out of your head.  That’s what I plan on doing, and that is why I signed up here.  I thought it would be helpful.  All I see is self-pity, but also there are (a few) positive posts too.  Cry for help and people here have answered.  Don’t post “end of life laboratories and lists of how-to-die.”  Trust me, it doesn’t always work.  It hurts other people.  If you are even reading thus far you probably have a lot to offer the environment you are in.  Do something good for an hour.  Idealizing suicide is stupid.  It isn’t productive.  It is selfish.  It is unfair to yourself unless you are so ill you need assisted suicide.  SERIOUSLY.  You matter to a lot of people, most of all YOURSELF.