This is the autobiography of Kevin Hines who survived a jump from the Golden Gate Bridge in 2000 at the age of 19. I have seen him in the documentary The Bridge. Kevin has severe type 1 Bi-polar disorder. I’ve watched the film numerous times.
I ordered this book on my Kindle a few days ago. I read it straight through, crying most of the time. It helped me understand that my severe depression is not the result of Bi-Polar disorder as I do not experience the hallucinations typical of this brain disease. I think the book, and Kevin’s story as a whole, can be of great benefit to someone who is afflicted the way he is. But for me, I found pretty much nothing that addresses my deep loneliness, feelings of despondency and the belief that I am a burden to my family and completely without worth (now that I am disabled).
I’ve tried anti depressants. They only make me jittery and unable to sleep. I’m 59 yrs old and have been disabled since experiencing severe issues with my heart 4.5 years ago. I’ve not tried therapist after therapist for years on end. But I’ve come to understand and believe that at my age, it DOESN’T get better.
I’ve been fascinated with the GG Bridge for a long time. I grew up in the bay area but now live in Arizona. I can still get to the bridge without difficulty. But I fear I lack the courage to make the jump, even though not a day goes by that I don’t have suicidal ideation connected to the bridge. The son of a former co-worker died there on new years day when I was in my 20’s. They no longer report successful suicides for fear doing so will inspire more people to jump. But on the average, there are 2 jumpers, one about every 10 days.
I think the majority of posters on this site are young people, many of whom have pretty bad family situations, and my heart goes out to them. But I do believe that in their cases, it is possible that it CAN get better. I read very few posts from people my age, with my type of scenario……and that adds to my feelings of isolation and deep loneliness.
I am in the process of writing my will and prepaying my final services (a simple cremation) so my sister, who has wryly joked that all I will leave her are bills to pay, will be spared the task. I’ve even found a nonrelative to be the executor of my will. I’m tying up loose ends.
I don’t think I can take much more.
2 comments
You sound like a great guy. Being disabled shouldn’t make you unworthy of love and company, at least not in the kind of world I want the world to be.
I can’t think of a single friend that I love because of what they do for a living. I love them for their company and their small acts of kindness.
Do you spend a lot of time on your own? Because that in and of itself could make most people very depressed.
Hello, BayAreaGuy. First, I empathize with much of what you’ve shared. I don’t know what your youth was like, but as we get older, we already face marginalization from our culture. The hopes we keep hearing it’s critical to keep alive begin to die due simply to our age. Worse, we’re condemned for just acknowledging that, despite it happening everywhere around us. It can be unbearably horrific, I agree, to be both depressed and older.
Last night I watched a documentary about an affair gone wrong between a 45 year old man and a younger woman. The particulars of the affair don’t matter, but a clinical psychologist “expert” commented throughout the documentary about the mental state of the man. At one point the expert said, “A 45 year old ex-alcoholic whose life was over…” to convey to listeners, supposedly, that the man was a “loser.” Apparently, despite overcoming a battle with alcohol, the social stigma remained. But what was most hurtful to hear was that an expert on, well, life, labeled a 45 year old man as one whose “life was over.” In that single sentence the “expert” betrayed the true sentiments of our culture–despite the hollow, hypocritical expostulations of equality and self worth. As we get older, our culture becomes more and more disgusted with us–except, of course, in the instances in which we are actively donating our life earnings to people and institutions.
Sorry for the rant above. I just mean to agree with the undercurrent of contributing ageism in your post. I have often been told, on sharing that I am suicidal, that at my age I can leave. (I am, of course, so appreciative of others’ permission.) So when I was 20 and suicidal, it was a tragedy (at least ideologically–in fact I had then no one who cared, either). But now I’m in my early 40s, as the expert said of the subject of the above mentioned documentary, my life is over.
I’ve given up hope on humanity. All I want is a painless and instant way out of this torture. I will agree with you: “at my age, it DOESN’T get better.”
In all sincerity, I wish you peace.