When I was born my mom went into the mental hospital leaving infant me and my three-year-old sister and only sibling under the care of my paternal grandparents, mainly my grandma. I was told my sister used to pull the bottom of my crib out, landing me on the floor where she would then attempt to suffocate me in a box of Kellogg’s Rice Krispies w/the liner. My mom had been going in and out of mental institutions for my entire upbringing and continues in and out of them to this day. When I was almost 13 and my older sister (and surrogate mom) was almost 16, she went to a block party and four days later her raped and murdered body was found in a nearby city. When I heard my father’s wail on the telephone with the Orange County Sheriff/Coroner telling him they had a body for him to identify, I literally felt an electric shock run from my brain down my spine then back up to my brain and I ran into my room crying in bed. My mom went back into the mental hospital, my father was left with unipolar depression for life, and I was left in shock hugging a pillow. I became hypervigilant since the murder, I assumed all strangers are murderers, I had a fear of vans because they said she was picked up in a van, and I wondered if I would make it to her age. Once I made it to her age, I wondered how much longer I would live than she lived. At the age of 31, after 18 years of hypervigilance, I could no longer fall asleep at all, for about a week before I ended up in an ER dehydrated with a ruptured lung. My own personal nightmare with multiple “psychoses” had just begun…
share your suicide story
Report Post
Please log in to report posts
12 comments
Hey Andy,
Oh my good Lord….how old are you now? I can’t wait to ask. I am in awe of you…justbecause you are still here and coherent. Major PTSD and abandonment with I’m sure a healthy dose of shame and fear…and so young. I am speechless…so I will shut up now…and listen if you would like to continue. You have my attention for sure…amazing strong will for sure.
I feel like I am interrupting you…please continue
Peace
Amakua
I am now 47 years old, Amakua. You’re not interrupting me, I had taken a break from me and began reading others. I don’t know where to continue, Amakua, there is so much, too much, to tell. I will tell you this though: I got over (became liberated) from the greatest shame of my life, which was not even MY shame but the shame of OHTERS upon me. I carried shame not my own until about five years ago, at 42, when I reflected with new perspective upon the course of my life. Question: how come your e-mail address appears to me?
As far as abandonment issues, I was aversive to my mother’s touch already by the age of 5 years, so she took me to a shrink to find out what was wrong with me, and the shrink said I am a normal healthy highly intelligent five year old. My mom was apparently attempting to dodge the profound guilt she had always harbored for not being there for me.
Of course, I am no longer angry with my mother, as I learn we are all victims of circumstance, especially in her case with being sent to a mental hospital–it’s not like she wanted to abandon me, but as you likely know, mama’s reasons are irrelevant in the eyes of the infant, you’re either there, or you’re not.
I have multiple injuries from multiple police beatings, Amakua, so in addition to my mental health issues, I am physically in trouble. I have a high neck injury on right side from being kicked in the left eye by a cop while cuffed on the ground, it might be responsible for my low blood pressure, or maybe not. I have bladder damage and had to begin self-catheterization April 17, 2012. On that day, April 17, 2012, I had to overcome a huge obstacle: I was standing in the bathroom with acute urinary retention and a catheter, it was either dial 911, go to the ER, or Just Do It. I just did it, with full sensation, it was quite a struggle but I gained great confidence on that day, the day I took control over my bladder rather than let someone else do it.
The low blood pressure might be from brain damage.
Sorry Andy…stepped out for a smoke and ended up holding a tenant’s meeting…hahaha
47 eh? That is impressive under your circumstances…I have heard worse stories to be sure…but none of them are still here…most didn’t make it to their 30’s. So kudos…you are amazingly strong. Yeah yeah…I know…sometimes that can seem like a curse as well.
Unfortunately I understand dealing with mental, emotional, spiritual pain…all while dealing with almost unbearable physical pain. But psychosis? Not yet…hahaha
I did have a psychotic break a time or so under extreme circumstances…but as yet am still just damaged and not broken. My doctor once told me that he wished he could put a cast on my break so that people would be more sympathetic…but as yet they haven’t been able to cast a broken soul. Silly man…it’s not broken…just damaged…lol. Have you been diagnosed with any psychosis or is that just your fear talking?
Oh crap…before I forget…anyone who comments on your post …their e mail will show up.
Some of my worst damage was unfortunately self inflicted…although others did their fair share…so I feel for you. Yeah…amazing things start to become obvious the older you get eh. Intelligence is inborn for the most part…wisdom comes of experience and triumph. So you should be if nothing else…very wise eh? Of course you are right about not taking your mother’s issues personally…but as you say…children do not have the ability to reason out these things…they just know what they want…and what they don’t get for the most part. And as we now know…life is hard…not usually fair…and nobody WANTS to be sick or in pain.
I believe there is a reason that the likes of us are still here…it could just be some warped kind of torture…but I don’t think so…I think that if we survive and help even one other survive…we have fulfilled a purpose. If we can comfort a hundred…then…even better. Why waste such a ride on just ourselves eh?
Again…sorry I got lost
I’m listening
Ama
I must believe there is good reason and good purpose for my suffering in order to continue to bear it. We do know there is much wisdom to be gained through suffering, but we also know much suffering with no wisdom gain. Will you share the seven ways not to commit suicide, Ama?
Hey Andy,
Just about to head to bed myself…meds and bed…in that order…hahaha. The seven ways not to commit suicide? I think there is a self-help book in there somewhere eh? lol…not sure what you are actually asking…but I am tired…sooo…do you want to know what didn’t work for me? If so I would love to tell you….tomorrow. hahaha
Sleep deprivation was not one of them. What was your method of choice btw?
Okay…going to bed…my stoopid meter is beeping….yawn
Hope I catch back up with you tomorrow
Lots of Love to you
Ama
Hey Ama,
Yes, I want to know what did not work for you. As for myself, I have not attempted suicide, and I hope I never do. I also hope not to awake when I lay me down to sleep.
Sleep well, and I look forward to hearing about the seven ways not to leave your lover,
Andy.
Stay strong Andy, you’ve come so far.
Good Morning Andy,
Not sure I’m awake yet…had a rough night last night. I’ve become pretty complacent about my attempts and although the number is accurate…I had to go back and think about it and some cases re-experience some of them…sigh. Luckily most of my attempts were in childhood…not so very sophisticated…based on observations and not facts. For instance…the first time as I’ve recently posted…lol…I smashed my head over and over until I finally knocked my little ass out cold…you might have something with that brain damage theory eh?…hahaha because when it didn’t work the first time…I kept trying.
The second time it scared the hell out of my poor mother and is actually quite a funny story…ummm…sorta. I figured out I couldn’t hit myself hard enough to knock myself out of the body…didn’t identify with it as anything but a prison…but I had noticed that on the farm…anything that quit breathing…was dead. I didn’t understand death…but just wanted to go home and knew I couldn’t do it until I escaped….so I decided I just wouldn’t breathe anymore…lol. I was 4 at that time…real smart cookie eh? Back then doctor’s used to make house calls…ahh the good old day. After trying everything to make me breathe…she panicked and called Dr. Ed. His office was 9 blocks away…so it took him awhile to get there…and by the time he arrived…Mom said I had been turning funny colours for well over 10 minutes. The doctor examined me and took my mother into the kitchen to talk. He explained that I was the most strong willed child he had ever seen and tried to console my mom…he explained that I was in no danger…that eventually I would pass out and my body would start breathing for me. He strongly reccommended that my mom take me to a child psychiatrist and prescribed Valium for her…hahaha. Needless to say…my mom refused the doctor’s advice…no child of hers was going to be different….and she set about to try to “force” me to be normal…and in her defense…it was painful but successful in that I learned what I needed to function in school and somewhat in society. The third time I was 7 or 8…still have some missing info from that time…a whole year is missing actually…another long story…but I had been raped by a visitor to the farm. That time I took a three story leap…not too bad for a little one…but landed in manure…not a pleasant memory…hahaha.
Okay…let’s leave childhood behind and leap into the dreaded teen years…hahaha. I tried to set myself on fire, cut my throat with my switchblade…ah shit…I think there might be more than 7…and the usual drug overdose. Shit I’m more screwed up than I thought. Are you keeping count?…lol
The 20’s brought a fascination with water and a plan to use my body against myself…because oddly enough…I don’t float like the majority of people…not even when I was pregnant. I dunno…bones too dense…I dunno but if so…that came in handy in later years as well. So my two attempts in my 20’s had to do with water…the one…a simple slipping under the water and breathing…and the other will go to my grave with me…sorry…but I can tweak that attempt if I have to…and it was the attempt that came closest to success. I almost divulged it to a desperate soul on here almost a year ago…and the guilt almost choked me…so sorry…but it is a sure fire method that will not fail and as such…it stays in my vault…also we are not supposed to post methods on here…and I TRY to follow rules…hehehe.
Okay…where was I…hahaha…ahhhh the thirties…alot of trauma…but then I had children to take care of…so they were relatively quiet…I just tried to get someone else to kill me…did you know you should never antagonize a person that is holding a gun?…hahaha
Not sure of the count at this point…but the last attempt was the worst…I just friggin’ gave up…you heard me…and then the medical problems started. It encouraged me to continue…and in a very short time I had what I was after…I had been diagnosed with numerous auto-immune disorders…that would be me attacking me…amongst other things…and eventually they gave me less than 6 months to live. I really don’t want to relive that point in my life…I had no hope left at all…I no longer cared about anything or anyone…I just gave up. And then in January 2001…I died. End of story.
That story anyway…I am obviously still here eh? Why have I said 7? I dunno…the fact that it is more…shit…not pleased. I must have lumped some together? I dunno…but no wonder I fretted over listing them last night…wow I am delusional…hahaha The truth probably has more to do with my math disability and difficulty understanding numbers…but why does it feel like I was only fooling myself. Ah well…I am still here…and the past is not. I’ll take solace from the fact that there will be no others…and I’ll keep my ace in the hole as backup…just in case…I don’t predict the future after all…sigh. ooooh…just got it…counted all the early childhood attempts as one…so I guess that makes it actually 9 attempts if my counter is working properly this morning. Shit…I have often told myself I was a cat with nine lives and still had a couple to spare. No wonder I had some an awesome experience during my NDE…it really was my last chance. Why does that fact cause me anxiety? Shit…now I’m crying…I really shouldn’t have answered your questions…but I guess I REALLY NEEDED TO SEE IT IN BLACK AND WHITE for myself…sigh.
Gonna go down to the creek and get my poop in a group…shit I can’t stop crying…I was more pathetic than I thought…gonna have to sit with this for a minute or ten…sigh I just realized…I have to fight even harder now…I have no more chances left.
Peace and Love
Ama