About Suicide Thoughts

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**I found this post while cleaning out my document folder. I wrote it four years ago and assume I did so because I had recently lost someone and I questioned my own mortality. **

Why People That Commit Suicide Don’t Talk About It Beforehand

I am terrified to share this, because of the stigma associated with people that attempt or commit suicide, hell, people who even think about suicide.  However, I am going to because I had a very dark moment last night that I believe only God helped me out of.  Only God because I was alone in my basement.  People don’t talk about this shit because they are embarrassed.  They don’t talk about it because they are afraid they will be laughed at, made fun of or worse yet, called a psycho and told to “get help.”

We all know someone who committed suicide.  Tragically sad, it’s true.  We sit and we think, “Why didn’t we know how they felt?”  “Why didn’t they reach out?”  “How could they do this?”

I’ll tell you why.  Because during the grey moments before the darkness consumes; before the shadows engulf the eternally depressed, We Did Reach Out.

We complained a lot.  We were sad a lot.  Or maybe even we were a little too happy.  We tried to talk about how we felt, but no one wanted to hear about it.  They were either too busy or they judged.

“Stop being stupid.”  “Don’t be an asshole – grow up.”  “You have so much to live for.  Just be happy.”

Or there is the whole: “Everyone feels like that.”  “Oh, you’ll be fine.” “Suck it up, buttercup.”

There is a subtle, consuming darkness before the thought that “I seriously cannot think of one goddamn reason to be on this Earth” hits a person.

There is that complete darkness – literal and virtual – that we sit in and we actually begin steps to take our own life.  We yell, we cry and sob – We beg God to help us.  We do this alone, maybe in the basement while our loved ones sleep upstairs, clueless.

Some of us get a fleeting moment, a millisecond in time of rational thinking – some of us do not get that sliver of hope. Some of us write notes because there is no other way to communicate, some of us do not because we have no idea what to say. And quite frankly, they didn’t want to hear it in the first place, so what is the point of a note, really?

I mean… fucking really.

So, maybe we go to the ‘shrink’ and we talk about our shit for a while and the only solution they come up with is, “You are (fill in the blank).  Here, start this medication and come back in a month.  We’ll see how you’re feeling then. And oh yeah, don’t forget the $50. co-pay.”

Or we go to the shrink and they nod the whole time we talk and they hand us a piece of paper with bullet points on it.

Or we go to the shrink and it’s so goddamn expensive it comes down to “Electric Bill or Mental Health?”

We have really exhausted every option and all we want is to be heard. We need someone to just shut the fuck up and listen.

So maybe the next time someone you know (whether you are very close or not so close) seems to be acting different or is sad (maybe for the 13th time in 3 weeks) or really happy (too happy?), ask what’s on their mind and really mean it.  Sit and listen; don’t judge.

You might just save that person’s life.

***

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/observe/

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Study Study

Well, sometimes I don’t know why I do the things I do. They are excellent in theory, but when applied to a commoners life, they are downright nonsensical. If you’ve been following along, you might know that I went back to school for my Associate’s in the Arts and at this moment have exactly thirteen credits to go to get my degree. After this semester, I will have six credits left to fulfill.

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I know! It’s so exciting. 😀

I have always been able to study hard, get good grades and mostly do well in school. My fretting is due to this semester: I have two full-length classes (fifteen weeks each), plus I am working Saturday’s at the office and not to mention (but mentioning) that I am in the final edits of my novel while writing the second book of poetry. So, extra school work, extra work hours, extra writing, and financially… my other professors provided books and such via PDF to lighten the financial load. This semester, I had to buy the books and pay out of pocket (not enough financial aid). Can we form a group to fight the robbery of overpriced textbooks?

I know I will be okay, but not knowing what to expect from the professors is I think what is getting me. I am taking Anthropology 101 and Biology. Anthropology I am excited about… Biology, not so much but am keeping a positive attitude.

Hopefully, I will have time to study. I might have to ease up on the writing for the next few months, but I will squeeze it in when I can! Success is all about hard work and sacrifice, right?

In Poetry Through Darkness news, someone left another really nice review of the book and I am ever grateful for that. It means so much to me when people take time out of their busy lives to make some moments for me. So, from the bottom of my heart to anyone who bought a book and/or left a review… thank you so very much. ❤

And yes! I am working on the second book of poetry. I am about thirty poems in so far and I hit a snag of blankness but picked back up with some fresh thoughts yesterday.

Happy Monday! The best thing you can do for yourself is to stay true to you!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/study/

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