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ChaosCross's avatar

Ever considered suicide? Why?

Asked by ChaosCross (2340points) February 10th, 2010

A dark question I know, but I really would like to hear what you have to say about the act and the idea.

I would also like to know that, if you did, what stopped you and how were you considering doing the deed?

I’ll start, I have, not anymore though. I did it because I thought it would be so much simpler just to end it immediately and move on from any kind of sadness and inconvenience in the world.

Your Turn.

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12 Answers

wundayatta's avatar

I hurt too much and I knew it would never end. Fortunately, it did end.

shego's avatar

Yes I did, all throughout high school. I unfortuneately have have a scar on my right wrist where I had to get stitches.
I was stupid and didn’t know how to respond to new stresses.

Dan_DeColumna's avatar

Yes, I have considered it. However, when one realizes that the desire is not to end life, but to end the pain associated it, it can be liberating. You begin to focus on ending the pain instead. A very good friend of mine once talked me off a ledge with the phrase, “no point in tossing out the dishes with the dishwater, my friend”. The absurdity of it made me inappropriately laugh at the time, but it has stayed with me since and I find it rather appropriate.


Tenpinmaster's avatar

Yes, but like what @Dan_DeColumna stated, you essentially want to get rid of the pain and not to actually end life. At one point I hit rock bottom so hard that It was a serious consideration. I figured though that I just cant do that to people who actually care about me and it is a very selfish thing to do indeed. Death is an easy way out and is very un-christian like to think about.

aprilsimnel's avatar

I had known that I attempted suicide at 11 with a medicine cabinet full of pills, but forgot about why until relatively recently. I wanted my aunt to stop abusing me overall (physically, emotionally, mentally, etc.) but she had kicked things up a notch that year by adding another kind of abuse, and I didn’t think I could take any more. I wasn’t sure what pills the were, even. I just took all the ones I saw.

I ended barfing up all the pills and being sick for a couple of days. I passed it off as “having the flu or something.” I didn’t really want to die, and that’s why I didn’t try again. I just wanted all the nightmare that was happening in my “home” to stop, but it didn’t until I left.

ChaosCross's avatar

@aprilsimnel ouch, im sorry to hear that. You feeling better now that you are away?

rangerr's avatar

First off, thank you mods/whoever for letting this question come back.
Sit down and let me tell you another tale, my friends.

I’ll quote my diary first.
June 27, 2002 (I was 10): my b-day is tomorrow and I am sad. I have a 101.9 fever. im gettin yelled at for laying down. i want to cry. help me. or kill me. being dead would be a nice choice. o, please let me die tonight.

To answer the question, yes. I have considered suicide. Many, many times. At least since the age of 10. Hell, I can remember wishing I would get trampled to death by cows when I was 5. I used to take a blanket out in the middle of the cow field and just lay there hoping that one of them would step on me so I could escape the things that were going on in my life. That period of time is a completely different story and not one I’m willing to share with anyone, though.

I want to say that I believe suicide is selfish and a ludicrous thing to even think about, but I’d just be a hypocrite. Some people just don’t see any other way out of bad situations. I’m not saying that there aren’t other ways to get past negative things, but I know how hard it is to see those options once you already get the thoughts of suicide in your head.

I lost my best friend to suicide when I was a sophomore in high school. It turned my entire world upside down, and I cut myself every day for four months after that. Those scars have healed, but there are times when I can look at my arm and still picture them all. I can’t explain why I did it. I didn’t want to die then, I kept thinking about how much we the very few friends he had and myself were hurt when Matt died. I didn’t want anyone to go through that. I wanted to die, but I didn’t want to be gone. So I did the next thing that my mind could come up with. I hurt myself and killed myself mentally.
I eventually got past that with the help of some very good friends and my now-ex.
They made me realize that I was too important to people to keep hurting myself.

Senior year of high school.. you know.. the best year of high school? Yeah, not so much. 5 students committed suicide within three months of each other all unrelated and one died in a hunting accident. 3 of the students were very good friends of mine. This completely tore me apart. There was a total of 9 funerals I attended from October-March that year. I was a mess. I didn’t want to be around all of that, so I turned to drugs in hope that I would one day just make a mistake and overdose. I came very close to dying, and it terrified me. Yet, I still continued to try and die.
One of my friends sat me down face-to-face and talked to me for 12 hours straight about what I was doing and why he was scared. I ended up crying for two hours after that.
I stopped drugs after that day and vowed to start over.

A few days before this past Christmas, some things happened and without thinking, I tried to OD again. I remembered the promise I had made my friend, and immediately checked myself in to a hospital. I had a question here updating everyone on me, but it was removed at my request. I haven’t had that urge since then.

I’d be lying if I said I was happy with life, now. There is still a lot that is very wrong, but I can’t fix that right now. I also know that things could be a lot worse.
Right now, my friends and a few close family members are keeping me sane. I’m very anxious to see how my life plays out. I have an idea of how I’d like my life to be in a few years, and that’s what I’m working towards.

Sorry this is so long.. I had a lot to get off my chest.

aprilsimnel's avatar

@rangerr – And we are so glad to see you here!

@ChaosCross – Yeah, I left at 18 (ostensibly for university), decided to not even return to visit at 19 and stopped speaking to her entirely at 31. It took a while to not feel insanely (and I mean that in the original sense of the word) guilty about that last decision, but I made it and things have ever-so-slowly gotten better. It’s still a “work in progress”.

Cruiser's avatar

Nope….I almost died 8 times in my life and been given last rites twice….I am not going out unless you make me and even then you will have your hand full!!!!

DrasticDreamer's avatar

There have been numerous periods throughout my life where I thought about killing myself. The reasons, in the beginning, were mostly due to a spectacularly shitty childhood. I’ve been dealing with depression for almost as long as I can remember, and sometimes, even now, dying just sounds better. The only thing that stopped me when I was younger, I think, is the simple fact that I was too scared to do it. What would have happened if I failed? How would I explain myself? So instead, I used to lay in bed every night and ask something to kill me, if there was anything “out there” that could hear me. I believe I almost got my wish, but that’s another thread altogether. What stops me now is that, even though living feels unbearable on many days, there are people that love me. If I took my own life, I would ruin theirs, and I do not want to be the reason people are in pain.

Also, my best friend, a kind of soul mate, killed himself on December 17th. My life has not been, and never will be, the same again. His death has ruined me emotionally and mentally, and I can’t even describe how much it hurts. Ironically, his suicide has left me feeling like I want to die, because I’m failing to see the point to anything right now. I’ve lost motivation, I have no goals… Because I can’t see why they even matter. I’ve been asking myself, “What is the point of life?” a lot lately. But again, I refuse to hurt the people that love me, so here I am, completely miserable.

In some cases, suicide is selfish. In other cases, people do it because of clinical depression – like my best friend. I’m not mad at him, because I know how much he was suffering. I wish things would have happened differently, I wish I could have helped him more, and most of all, I wish I could go back in time. Because of how I’ve been thinking lately, I’m looking into depression medication. I’ve been severely depressed before, so I know where my mind is capable of going. And because of my best friend’s death, I’m scared that it might get so bad that there is no coming back for me. So do I think of suicide? All the damn time. Do I want to commit it? Not deep down – but I know that that doesn’t always matter once severe depression gets a firm grasp on your mind.

RareDenver's avatar

I’ve never considered suicide but I would like to talk about how it has affected me in the hope that someone might read it and think twice.

When I was 18 my mother committed suicide. Several things had happened that basically lead to our family having a bit of a shitty time of it from when I was about 15 onwards, culminating in my mothers death. We knew she was not well and was struggling to cope with the situation that our family found itself in. I might add the problems we had were all emotional and things probably looked okay from the outside, I won’t go into details because I’m sure everyone knows how fucked up families and relations can be from time to time.

So we tried our best to support my mother and be understanding and I won’t lie, it was difficult at times and I really struggled to understand her depression, I still do struggle to understand depression and am not really all that comfortable around people when they are in their dark place.

One day when I was at home in the afternoon my mother was downstairs talking with a social worker (it was the first visit my mother had had) when the social worker shouted for me saying there was something wrong with my mother. I came downstairs to find my mother being very unresponsive and what I can only describe as out of it, she then tried to get up and collapsed to the floor, at this point she started crawling around and vomiting vast amounts of blood everywhere. I rang an ambulance and then the social worker just left (to be fair I found out later it was her first day on the job and I think she was pretty freaked out by the whole thing) so I was left with my mother by myself while she carried on to vomit blood and was now beginning to convulse for what seemed like an age until the ambulance arrived. When they did finally arrive they asked if I wanted to come in the ambulance with them, it was only then that it struck me that I hadn’t called my dad. I told them I had best call him and wait for him.

When my dad got home he called the hospital and they said to come down straight away. As soon as we got there they put us in a small private room and told us to wait for the doctor, when the doctor arrived and told us that she had passed away at first it just seemed like he meant something else, like she had gone to a different hospital or something, then it hit home and everything from then on is a bit of a blur.

I constantly felt like I had failed my mother and had not understood enough or been there for her enough. The feeling of guilt was unbearable at times and I hated that my friends gave me sympathy because I really felt like I deserved anything but sympathy, I felt like someone should be grabbing me and shouting at me and asking me how I could ever have let that happen.

It was at this point that I started treating women really bad, I had always been a nice thoughtful person, girlfriends mothers had always loved me but I started taking girls for granted, cheating on them quite openly and basically just being a prize asshole. I also started doing a lot more drugs and I royally fucked up my A Level finals. I went from dead end job to dead end job never really trying, same with relationships. Me and my father really drifted for a few years there too, only spoke maybe a couple times a year.

I’m 33 now and I still sometimes feel guilty about my mother (even though the rational side of me tells me that she was ill and there was very little an 18 year old could have done) me and my dad are thankfully very close now and have mended those bridges that we so badly burned in the years following my mothers death. My brother was affected much worse than me by this and still is, he was recently diagnosed with rapid cycle manic bi-polar disorder.

So if you are thinking about suicide and there is anyone in the world that you care about in the slightest, then I would please ask you not to put them through the pain and the guilt of the days, weeks, months and years that would follow your escape.

takito6909's avatar

You need to stop thinking of all the negative shit around you and just try to live life to the fullest. Make sure you don’t want to do something that you are going to regret. Go out and explore the beauty that this world has giving us.

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