Sunday Night With John: The Suicide That Almost Happened

I remember the longest night of my life with a vivid memory. I remember the scare and terror on my mom’s face as I shoved her out of her own house. My explosion of anger at her honest and accurate feedback about how I was acting. My mom's honesty hadn't landed on my ears in some time.  Immediately, my pent up and suppressed emotional well of anger began to run over with the force of a whitewater river.  I physically forced my mom to leave the house, and I was alone.  My senses didn’t recognize this place called home once filled with love. My brain couldn’t stop focusing on the death of my father at 14, and witnessing the death of Eric, my best friend in a car accident just a few weeks ago. Nothing could alleviate the increasing and drumming thoughts of suicide in my head. How could anyone feel as bad as me?  How could I go on without them and why on earth would I want to?  

I do not want to feel anymore pulsated through my body. 

I have been thinking about this night a lot lately.  Not because of a relapse in my mental health, but because of the onslaught of internet articles about suicide in the wake of the death of Robin Williams.  I read articles where the author described suicide as a selfish act and the comments left by other readers criticized the author of being inconsiderate, ignorant or not understanding the full picture.  As someone who walked up to the line of suicide and starred it in the face, I can tell you without a doubt that it would have been the most selfish decision of my life if I had gone through with it.  I cannot speak to every situation, but I can say at my worst moment I was desperate and hopeless and those two feelings can lead to selfishness behaviors. 

I wasn’t thinking about how my mom would feel if she had come home and found me dead. I didn’t have concern for what would happen to my brother and sister. I most certainly didn’t care what it would have done to my peers.  Their emotional health was fragile after Eric’s death but mine had to be way worse. That night, I  couldn’t stop focusing on my pain, my anger, and my thoughts "I could have prevented Eric’s death".  Only thinking about yourself is the definition of selfishness. I just wanted the pain to stop, and through that pain, I forgot about everyone else in my life. I could not see beyond of myself and made everyone in my world uncomfortable.

It wasn’t until after the fight with my mom,  my family began to confront me about how I was dealing with my emotions. It was then my road to recovery could start and if I'm being honest, there is never an end to recovery, just a greater understanding of who I am. A knowledge there is a dark side and a light side of my personality.  I began to realize to heal from my overwhelming pain; I needed to open up and let others in, especially my family.  This realization started my journey through the grief process.  It would still be two years until I admitted to my family I almost took my own life. Slowly, I started replacing anger with sadness, fear, and finally laughter and happiness.  I could finally begin to see outside of myself and accept help and feedback from others.

Not every suicide is selfish just like not every rich man is greedy. But that doesn't mean there are not suicide's were the act wasn't selfish. It may have been based on horrible thought processes, lies we have told our selves, but still part of it, or all of it could have been selfish. Mine was.  The fact is: condemning people for having that thought is having a conversation that won’t lead to answers. It pits people against each other. The crowd that views it has selfish vs the crowd that thinks you are insensitive for thinking it's selfish  Time spent arguing over what suicide is and isn't takes away from creating an emotional environment where we can help prevent suicide. I hope we settle on this fact: suicide is complicated for all involved, those who commit the act, and those left behind to pick up the pieces of their shattered life. 

We will never ultimately know what the tipping point for suicides is because of the people successful in committing suicide can't answer those questions. We need to create room for all opinions to be heard and because if we can get the people who think suicide is selfish to talk with the people who think suicide is a desperate act, they might be able to build a relationship with those who believe suicide is preventable.  We might just create a chain reaction and include people in the conversation who have walked up to the line of suicide and walked away.  We need to create a movement of open and honest discussions.  We need to ask hard questions and support others when needed even if we do not like their answer. 

Suicide leaves so many people speechless and hurt because of all the questions we are afraid to ask or can’t get answered. Unanswered questions leave a void that causes pain and emotional bruising that we sometimes hurl at each other. We can’t stand to have unanswered questions so we throw terms around selfish, desperate, hopeless, etc., in a terrible attempt to make sense of an act we can’t comprehend.  Part of my depression and suicidal thinking was selfish. I also know that it isn’t true for everyone.  It's like every other thing that occurs in our world, confusing and layered. 

Suicide is a lot of things. It’s a complicated solution to a laundry list of problems a person is facing. I know I don’t have all the answers on how to prevent suicide, but I do know it’s not going anywhere unless we stop asking after it happens. We need to be brave and ask the question, how can I help you live?

On a personal note, anyone who has read this and stared suicide in the face and walked away: Thank you for being a survivor.  I hope you find the courage to talk with loved ones about how you got that low, and more importantly what helped you reach your new heights. It’s not an easy road to travel, so value each step you have taken away from that low moment of your life.