Most of my social circle knows I take psychiatric meds. I take an anti-depressant (in large doses) and an anti-psychotic (in small doses) to keep functioning. The last time I called the pharmacy for a refill, and they didn't have my meds in stock. I went without for many days, and it's been a steep uphill emotional climb to start to want to feel normal again. I learned first hand what it's like to have greatly distorted thinking and judgment.
In that distorted mental state, (without going in to graphic detail) I did plan for my own death. I honestly believed that my family and friends would be better off without me. Death seemed preferable to running away, since after my death they could all find closure and move on with their lives. I was scared and tired. Suicide did not seem like a selfish decision; rather, it felt like the most selfless thing I could do for the people I love. When I'm thinking clearly, I know that doesn't make sense. But it did make sense at the time.
I obviously did not choose to die. I have been one of the people left behind after a suicide; I know first hand that one never really moves on after that. Somehow, I found the courage to believe that past experience, and the courage to trust a couple of people with my inner struggle. My husband believed me without question when I told him I was in trouble. Never once did he suspect I was faking to get attention. Never did he suggest I should just snap out of it. He was there, physically in the same room, for several days, offering his love and ensuring my safety. A girl friend offered a listening ear, available upon request, and insisted on a lunch date. The listening ear reminded me that I really did have friends who might miss me if I were dead. That date gave me a commitment to fill, and something to look forward to. Without these two angels, I may have made a very different decision.
I share this experience because I learned some things that might be helpful for someone else. First: if you are in danger of hurting yourself, get help. Call the national suicide hotline (1-800-273-8255). Talk to someone who loves you. Go to an emergency room near you and ask for help. Second, if you love someone who asks for help, believe them. Try to recognize the courage it takes to ask for help. Be there physically, even through the uncomfortable anger and tears. You call the suicide hotline. Call 911 if it seems necessary to insure safety. Third, I share this because there are people out there who feel like I did, or who find themselves in the position of my husband and friend. It is those people who most need to know they are not alone. None of us is alone. Help, support, and sympathy are out there. Take courage in knowing that other people have fought similar battles.
After this experience, I feel a deeper sympathy for people who have lost loved ones to suicide. Your pain is just as real. You are left with all the scars of a battle you couldn't control. For this, I can offer only the hope that you are not alone, either. There are people who understand you, too. To a small extent, I understand you; someone I love left me with some of these scars. I am not trying to belittle your experience or the experience of the person you lost. I was lucky; others are not.
One final thought: my faith in my God continues as a ray of hope for me. I find comfort and rest in the Lord, and I am grateful for His love and concern.
