Archive | June 2015

Why Most Suicidal People Don’t Understand Suicide

  The one thing that so many people who commit suicide or consider committing suicide have in common is a lack of understanding for what it truly means to commit suicide. 

In the act of destroying yourself, you automatically break the hearts of everyone you have ever come in contact with. People who want to kill themselves tend to think that by ending their lives, they will create less pain for those around them; they will be removing a burden. That could not be farther from the truth. 

I have witnessed the aftermath of more suicides than I ever hoped to experience. It’s an act that truly has the power to tear apart everyone from those close to the person to those that had class with the person, those that were friends with them on Facebook, the emergency responders, even people just hearing about the death in the news. Everyone is impacted, everyone is wounded.

Suicides are more like bombs than anything. However, most people who believe committing suicide is the best option for their situation don’t see it that way. They think “no one will care” or “everyone will be better off”.

Out of everything I’ve been through, losing my best friend to suicide was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. It created a chasm inside of me that nothing can fill and for over two years, I thought it was going to kill me too. I still think that somedays. I still want to join Isaiah somedays. Sometimes I hate how aware I am, but everyday I live because, to put it simply, I know what it feels like to be left behind.

Voices

Hush little baby

Don’t say a word

or Daddy’s gonna kill you

and whoever heard

You’re a slave to them all

Hell, you’re lower than dirt

Maybe, just maybe

You deserve to hurt

It won’t go away

You can’t close the door

Nothing can stop it

No, you’ll never be pure

Breathe, silly child

Press that blade down

Let blood soak your soul

but don’t you dare frown

Look, now it’s morning

Put on your happy face

Who knows how many years

until you’re out of this place

Hush little baby

Don’t say a word

or Daddy’s gonna kill you

and whoever heard

Safety and Sobriety

I felt fierce and humble and gathered up inside, like I was safe in this world too.

-page 234, Wild, Cheryl Strayed

While I was in the hospital, I read this book. It helped me hugely in shifting my mindset to one of living instead of dying. As my discharge date approached, I wrote the above sentence in the front of a fresh notebook. I felt like it described my state perfectly. I felt together, safe, clean, and motivated.

Not unusually, I feel as though the floor fell out from under me when I left the hospital. I’m just sort of floating out in space, surrounded by sharps and drugs and reminders of all the reasons I felt like I needed them to begin with. Today was especially difficult. Despite being on medication to treat nightmares, I still have really messed up dreams sometimes, and last night was one of those times. I experience what I call “mixed flashbacks” that basically combine the worst times in my life. For example, I will relive abusive situations that happened with my dad, but instead of my dad perpetrating the abuse, it’s my best friend, Isaiah. I also have flashbacks of situations I went through with Isaiah except my dad is in his place. Last night, I had a really intense mixed nightmare that really threw me off course.

My mind has been full of depressive thoughts and self-destructive impulses all day. It’s disheartening to remember how I felt before I left the hospital and compare it to how I’m doing now. At inpatient, I didn’t want to self-harm at all and now it’s one of the only things I can think about and it’s the only thing the voices in my head are screaming at me to do.

I watched the movie version of Wild tonight and that helped restore a feeling of hope and strength that was reminiscent of how I felt before leaving Philhaven. It’s a true story of perseverance and overcoming grief. Cheryl Strayed continues to inspire me every day through her journeys and writing. I can only hope that one day I’ll be able to reflect on my experiences and write about them in a way that will touch people the way she has touched me.

It’s into the middle of the night now, and I’m too scared to go to sleep. I don’t want to see what horrific dream my PTSD brain has concocted for me tonight. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, but I will continue to fight for my own safety and sobriety, just as many other people do every day.

A Letter For Mer

Written February 28, 2015

Dear Meredith,

It’s been a long time since we last talked

and I’m not sure what to say

but I miss you a whole fucking lot

and I think about you every day

I don’t know why this happened

Let alone why it happened to you

You’re the last person anyone would think

something like this could happen to

You were just always so happy

always laughing, always fun

I never thought your smile would go away

I never thought you’d be the one

to have your face plastered on the news

with people lining down the street

to simply attend your funeral

and go to the family meet and greet

I’m struggling pretty bad again

but I’m sure that comes as no surprise

I’m in the hospital for the ninth time

for being obsessed with my demise

I feel really bad about it

like I don’t have the right to choose to die

Because you were never given that choice

That’s why I can’t help but cry

Because you had the brightest future

You had so much you were living for

I feel like the same thing is true for me

but I have a disease that has no cure

I remember freshman year you told me

that if you died, you wouldn’t care

but I never even considered

that one day you wouldn’t be there

I’m sorry that we didn’t talk more

especially in the end

and I’m sorry that I didn’t text you back

and that I’m such a shitty friend

More than anything I’m sorry

that I barely remember your face

and I would’ve given anything in the whole world

if I could’ve taken your place

Mer, I just really love and miss you

and I hope somewhere you’re okay

and maybe soon I’ll get to see you

and I’ll hear you laugh again someday.

Love and Admiration,

Jocelyn