I am a 65-year-old single, gay, man. Forty-nine years ago tonight, when I was 16, I tried to end my life. I wanted to die.
I took nearly an entire bottle of Bufferin. It was the only pills I could find. The main reason for my wanting to die was because of my sexuality. But I also felt very unloved and unwanted by my parents, which was not true at all (I was an only child).
Early the next morning I became violently ill. I had a powerful diarrhea and was vomiting. They alternated about every 15 minutes. This went on for hours. I also had a ringing in my ears. I didn’t tell my parents what happened, they just thought I was sick. As the morning wore on the vomiting and diarrhea became less frequent and less forceful. By the end of the afternoon the vomiting and diarrhea stopped, but the ringing in my ears lasted two more days.
A few days later I did tell my best friend at the time what I had done. Fortunately, and amazingly for him, he did not tell anyone in high school. I never ever did tell my parents.
In the following months my life began to slowly improve, and little by little, over the years things got better. By a decade later, my life got really, really good. I couldn’t have dreamed how good it was going get that night I tried to kill myself.
I look back on my attempt and think what if I had succeeded. I think about how it would’ve completely destroyed my parents. It would’ve devastated my family, all my aunts and uncles, all my cousins. Most of all I would’ve cheated myself out of a some very good years.
When I read on this site about so many young people who want to end their lives, I want to plead with them. Things can get better, it won’t be immediate, it takes time, but your lives can definitely improve. And please think about the consequences, the effect your death would have on your families. I know if I had died I don’t know whatever would have become of my parents. Plus when you’re young you have time to fix your life, no matter how bad it is.
For myself, I thank God so very much that I did not die 49 years ago tonight. Because I could have, and wanted to.
5 comments
thanks for sharing. 49 years is a long time, is there a particular reason you remember the exact date? Not to say a suicide attempt alone wouldn’t do it but I can’t relate and would think after so much time the actual anniversary would disappear.
Not too many years afterwards I wondered exactly what calendar day it was. A quick research revealed it to be August 8/9. Ever since then, I honor the date every year with remembering how horrible everything all was. Interestingly, I was telling someone at The Trevor Project (a gay suicide prevention organization) this story and date once and he said to me: happy second birthday. As in my not dying was another birthday in my life.
Thanks for this. I’m in my late 40s and struggling right now, as I struggled as a teen. I long series of events in my life, self and outside created, have left me really desperate right now, and am slowly deciding to live. You reminded me that I may be able to look back 20 years from now and say that it got better.
I must confess that in these past 49 years I had some very good years but I also had some very bad years. It was a challenge to get through those bad ones but somehow I managed to do it. Looking back on it I’m not sure how I did. But right now I’m in a pretty good place. The hard reality is life can be awfully difficult but sometimes, just sometimes, it does get better.
And let me add, if you’re in your 40’s there is still time to make changes and improvements. What I am finding as I get older is that the older you get the harder it is to make changes and improvements.