Accounts of failed attempts at suicide

I deeply apologize, I don’t mean this to offend anyone, but I was looking for a bit of sage advise or a story from somebody I admire that may help me see things differently.

I admire many people here on the board so and i know we have a high count of depressed individuals so I know you’ll all understand.

I put this in the pit in case it hurts more sensitive readers or something.

I made a shoddy attempt at suicide when I was 17 but it was poorly planned and it’s embarrassing to recount.
But I remember how I felt after a few weeks, and I was happy that I didn’t succeed. This lasted awhile- this satisfaction with my life in general, with the regular amount of ups and downs and occasional self-mutilation.

It’s different now. Cutting myself made me feel alive, and now I have no urge to do so because it seems pointless. So does everything else.

I could go on and on in this vein, but I was hoping that there does indeed exist people who manage to find their soul again once it’s been missing. I haven’t felt much of anything in months. That’s also why I stopped posting here, but it’s ok if nobody noticed.

I apologize if this is boring or poorly-written, but I feel like my intellect has dropped significantly along with my soul.

I don’t need hugs or anything, just wanted to hear stories if anybody would like to share.

There is nothing regular about self-mutilation. I urge you to seek professional help regarding your current mental state.

I used to be suicidal. I still become suicidal on occasion. I’ve found one thing that helps me very, very much.

The reason I contemplate suicide (well, some of them ok?) is (are) that I want peace, or relief from intense stress, or relief from seemingly unremitting depression. I just want the whole world GONE. Or…I want me not in it any more, for whatever reason. The thing is…

I fully understand that if I kill myself, I will not be around long enough to enjoy the lousy few moments of peace I’d get.

That helps, all by itself. Then I think of other things.

Conversations with friends? Gone. Sunsets? Gone. Sunrises? Gone. A big cup of chocolate milk? Gone. Holst’s “Mars” movement from the “Planets” symphony? Gone. Spaceballs? Gone. The smell of fresh-ground coffee? Gone. My Livejournal? Gone. Hell, the Internet? Gone.

Any sympathy anyone might have ever had for me? GONE, because I was a selfish cunt and took myself away from people who cared about me…whether I felt at that moment like they did or not.

I don’t think anyone should be allowed to kill themselves - barring terminal physical illness - before they’re at least 65. There’s no way to know before then whether or not life has anything good in store for you.

And the soul doesn’t die. It hibernates, but it doesn’t die. Trust me. I am the Harbinger of Doom, and the One Who Rains On Everyone’s Parade…but trust me on this one, okay?

Phew. Back to your regularly scheduled, shallow, uncaring, unsympathetic Hamadryad, already in progress.

Turpentine, I know where you’re coming from. I have suffered from depression all my life. I’ve had a couple Major Depressive episodes that got to the point where I was doing the planning to kill myself, but I never went through with it. I also used to cut myself, but I haven’t in years. I went into a psychiatric unit of a hospital after a depressive episode that scared me because I was cutting myself and wasn’t able to feel the pain. Being in the hospital saved my life and for the most part, it was a good experience.

Depression runs in my family. When I was a child, my mother tried to kill herself in front of me & my brother. (She took a bunch of the anti-depressants she was on and drank a huge glass of vodka) She went to the hospital, had her stomach pumped, and the family continued on in its dysfunctional little way. I come from a family where I was sexually and physically abused, and I witnessed drug and alcohol abuse, and the physical and sexual abuse of my siblings. Needless to say, I’ve been in therapy on and off for many years. I’ve attended Survivors of Incest Anonymous meetings and read lots of self-help and psychology books. I have done a tremendous amount of work on myself. And no, I am not in touch with my family or origin AT ALL, and I’m quite happy that way.

Even with all the reading and talking and such, I’d still get depressed about once a year. Nights were particularly bad. I would lay on the floor and listen to music and cry and cry. I would have lucid periods during the day where I would think, “Wait a minute, why am I getting this depressed? My self-esteem isn’t low like it used to be, I’m in a good life situation, I have a job, friends, a social life, etc. I shouldn’t be feeling this bad.” I realized that I was not in control of the depression, and I wondered if it might be a chemical imbalance. I went to my shrink at the time and he sent me to a psychiatrist who prescribed Zoloft. It’s a relatively new antidepressant that is supposedly similar to Prozac except that it doesn’t have as many side effects. And I’ll tell you, it saved my life. I was getting to that point again where I was starting the serious planning, and I didn’t want to feel that bad. I started taking it around the time that Kurt Cobain killed himself, and I have been on it ever since. I still get depressed, I just don’t go into that deep well that I used to get in. It evened out my moods.

Have you considered an anti-depressant? Are you in a situation where you have the insurance to cover therapy and medication if needed? Maybe that’s what you need, if at least for a while.

I still have moments where I feel empty and lost, but thankfully they are few and far between. I don’t necessarily know if you will be able to “find your soul” (as you so eloquently put it) until you deal with the depression. I could list things that make me feel good now, but I remember that when I was in the throes of depression, nothing could make me feel good. I think that some of the things that helped me were finding a couple of good therapists to work with (before insurance companies started really cracking down on how many visits you could have per year), and putting time and distance between me and my past. I can look at some things that happened differently now than I could when I was an angst-ridden teenager. And finding a stable, healthy person to have a relationship with helped. When I married my husband, it really helped me, because it was a direct slap to all those old beliefs (from being an abuse survivor) that are etched into my soul: that I’m a terrible, bad, stupid, ugly person who doesn’t deserve happiness, that no-one would ever want me because I’m ‘damaged goods’, etc etc. I can look at the ring on my finger and be happy and amazed that something good did happen in my life, and be thankful that my husband is someone who wants to be with me no matter what my past is.

Sorry to go on for so long! But I have a lot to say on the subject. Find a therapist if you can, and discuss going on an anti-depressant. Talk to other people who have been through depression. Take care of yourself and try to find things you enjoy, and then do them. I know it’s hard. It’s especially hard to deal with depression alone. That’s why I’m advising you to find somebody to talk to, whether it’s a psychiatrist, a social worker, or a pastor. It really helped me to talk to other people who have been through the same thing, and know that I wasn’t alone. Good luck.

Thank you moggy, it was very kind of you to share all that.

I am in therapy right now, and my therapist has suggested a few times that i try anti-depressants, but she has waited, she thought we should see if I would get better on my own, if this was only a passing phase.
She thought that my depression was situational-
I have a male friend who cannot date me because he has “issues”, he says, and can’t really get close to anyone. It sounds like crap but I believe him, because he has also suffered from severe depression for most of his life. We talk about it a lot, and he’s very valuable to me.
But he just got discharged from a mental hospital and he hasn’t been the same since. He seems even more depressed, and he seems to be trying so hard to get his life back together.

I don’t feel like I can talk about MY depression with him right now when he’s having so many problems of his own. I also have to try really hard in front of him to be strong so he can get better.

I guess I forgot about myself in the process.

But i understand how all this comes about from anger, things from childhood, etc.
I admire all the work you’ve done to try to make your life make sense.

I can do that too when I have the energy. Just not right now.

Hamadyad- thanks for being nice. It made me smile.

I used to enjoy all those little things, but my absence, or hibernation of a soul makes me unfeeling towards them now.
I keep hoping my soul will come back so I can enjoy things I used to like- my livejournal and my rats and taxiderming things and swimming in the ocean and eating slush-mix right from the package and gummybears for breakfast. At the moment I only like NOTHING and it’s really annoying.

Did you know you can buy (or just look at) antique taxidermy on the web?:slight_smile:

I’ve always liked your off-beat posts; hope you can come back to posting soon.

I feel your pain. I, too, am severely depressed.

I managed to stay away from suicide thoughts my whole life, until earlier this year, when I managed to have the worst period of my life. Suddenly, all my optimism was gone. I started contemplate sentient life as a constant choice between continueing and ending. My soul hurt just like a body would hurt if you lobbed off its arm. Everything that once brought me joy now brought me pain. Beauty and even joy made me cry. It sucked, and I still don’t know how I made it through.

The hardest thing for me is knowing that I will have to do it all again. This pain has always been here and it is going to remain here until I manage to get some help. I know that anti-depressent drugs will work for me, just as they worked for my depressed Grandma (my depressed mother still suffers). But, when I am down I am too down to do something positive and when I am okay then I don’t feel I need them.

No real point to this rambling, except maybe to say you are not alone. I know that thought never really helped me, but maybe it can help you. Hang in there.

Turpentine,
I always remember you as the poster who carries around the Monster Women lunch box with monster women and a plastic dinosaur inside it. I always felt that gave us a bond because I always carry around a rubber penguin wearing a Detroit Lions football helmet. I don’t really have a story, just wanted to share that with you. That is all.

I must concur with sven that I too have no idea what has ever cancelled my “decisions” to commit suicide. I can’t even say that it was because I wouldn’t enjoy the peace because I also told myself I wouldn’t regret anything either.

However, a friend of mine who felt very similar after losing religion decided to work over 80 hours a week. that helped him in some way.

The first big step was admitting you needed help. It’s so hard to do when you’re so down but it’s so necessary, it’s the beginning of the way out.

Please, keep going . . . talk to your doctor(s) and other health professionals . . . talk to your friends. If medication is indicated, try it. It can make all the difference in the world.

Sometimes something as simple as taking a walk every day can make a profound change. Yes, it is VERY difficult when all you want to do is nothing, but find the strength to walk out the door and hike around the block. Go to the park, check out the ducks on the lake . . . walk a dog . . . feed the squirrels. (No, don’t feed the squirrels to the dog.)

And KEEP talking to us. We’re all pulling for you. A lot of us have walked this path and can testify, it can get better.

Jenny
your humble TubaDiva
Let us know how you’re doing

If you had the same shitty therapists I had 19 years ago, they would have told you, “Then you didn’t really want to kill yourself. If you really wanted to die, you would have tried again and again and again until you succeeded. But you stopped, so you didn’t really want to die.”

Which is bullshit, of course. I most certainly did want to die at the moment I was trying to do it. But I changed my mind. It’s not because I didn’t really want to die, but because I’m impulsive. I can change my mind about ANYTHING at a moment’s notice, lose interest in ANYTHING and I’ve been that way for as long as I can remember. (I wonder if I have ADD…) Interrupt what I’m doing and I’m liable to totally forget what I was doing or why or both. But try telling that to a therapist who had already made up her mind that my attempt was just a pathetic bid for attention.

See more than one therapist. It took me four times to find someone who would take me seriously.

Mine, too, on my mother’s side. My father’s side doesn’t have the same history, AFAIK, but they are notoriously tight-lipped about personal things.

hang in there please, turpentine. to my mind, the very reason you posted here is the same thats keeping you on this planet.

listen to that reason. im not sure you really want to die. id say i know, but i dont want to put words in your mouth.

dont over-analyse it, but youre still here, and youre still reaching out. thats a really good thing.

if ive learned anything in my journey, its that im my own worst enemy, and its me that is placing the majority of the obstacles i face in my way.

of course, they come from what i was taught, and the conclusions i was forced to draw from these things, but theyre still coming from inside of me.

embrace your desire to reach out, to feel, to be alive, and most of all hang in there, and (this is the hardest part) dont say no to the people that want to help you. and you know what? trust yourself. that might be the hardest thing of all.

love, essvee

When I was 22 I was bored and decided to kill myself. It was a depressing time in my life, but there had been no particularly traumatic events that had happened recently, I was just tired of life and decided to quit. I took about 10 OTC sleeping pills and went to bed with a plastic bag on my head. I woke up the next morning with the bag still in my hand, and haven’t tried since, even though I have been through times that were a LOT worse.

Each situation is unique. An above poster talked about Zoloft having fewer side effects, this was the first one I tried, it made me feel zonked. Prozac’s initial side effects made me a bit edgy and excited (they faded soon). Not bad side effects for depression. I have never cut myself. If I attempted suicide, I would just jump out of a tall building. Grisly, but effective. I have stood at the top of tall parking garages just to contemplate life. Oddly, it helps put it in perspective for me.

I too have been in a state where I had no energy or motivation, and wish I would end, but every time I have continued and interesting things of life follow.

Get with a shrink for possible medication, and a good therapist to help you change your way of thinking. Both are important.

I’ve made twenty-two shoddy attempts at suicide, and I used to cut myself a lot. Sometimes I’m amazed at how far I’ve come in just a few short years. My last suicide attempt was more than three years ago. Since then I’ve considered suicide a lot, but never enough to actually go through with it. I got tired of desperate attempts to make my pain and my problems all go away, and I was too apathetic to do anything thought out. Self-injury took a lot more for me to battle, and even now the battle isn’t over, but I don’t think I’ve cut in about seven months.

I suggest that you keep seeing your therapist, if you feel comfortable with her. I also suggest you try antidepressants. I had to try six different medications before I found one that worked for me, but now that I’m on Wellbutrin things are a lot better. Between therapy to correct faulty thought patterns and medication to correct faulty brain chemistry, my situation has improved dramatically. I never, never would have thought three or four years ago that I could be this okay.

I also know how it is to have to support a friend who’s even more depressed when I’m barely surviving. I’ve had several friends who’ve had severe depression, and I know how hard it is to try to convince someone that things’ll be alright when I was suicidal myself. Remember, give only what you can. You need to keep yourself healthy first, or you’ll be unable to help your friend.

Hang in there. Even though it seems like life will never be pleasant again, things do get better.

I’d like to share with you a site that helped me a lot in my darkest days - Bodies Under Seige. The email group has several hundred members and there’s a huge amount of information and support there for people who self-injure and/or are recovering.

It is possible to feel a whole lot better than you do right now. It may take a little time but you’re doing exactly the right thing by seeking help, talking with your therapist and being honest with yourself and others. Take care of yourself and please keep talking to us.

Fran

I’d just like to add that you are all quite brave to share your experiences. You’ve restored my faith in human kindness.
Turpentine, I can only mirror what has been said thus far. Keep reaching out and seek the help you need when you have the energy and strength to make those steps. During my most difficult times, I look for simplicity. I still keep a copy of the children’s book The Giving Tree in my desk drawer to remind me of those times. It may seem strange but somehow it lends me perspective.
Bobby Gaylor does a commentary/song called Suicide. Download it from the net if you can. It will make you laugh, cry, scream… trust me.
Stay with us. You’re stronger than you realize.

I tried some half-hearted attempts at suicide in my late teens, but I was not depressed like you. The story I want to tell you is about my sister. 13 years ago, almost to the day, she committed suicide. All the telling signs were there if I had only paid attention. She had a hard life, I think, coming from alcoholic parents and being an alcoholic/substance abuser herself. She was also a lesbian, and had to deal with people’s rejection of her on that level. My family didn’t reject her (after a 3 or 4 year estrangement), but just prior to her suicide, her lover had left her because of her drug/alcohol dependency. She was in AA, and trying to be sober for the first time in her life.

She was a wonderful, warm, loving woman, and I miss her every day. I feel partly responsible that I couldn’t help her to see herself in that light. Please remember that it will hurt someone tremendously, for the rest of their life, if you die. All the wonderful people here have given you great advice.

There is beauty and peace to be found in life. Please don’t go away.

-Robin

Turpentine, you carry Monster Women around? That is so cool…

Yes, I used to carry my Monster Women in my metal Monster Women Lunchbox because they all hung out in there with my dinosaur until I need their assistance and I would unleash their fury by opening the lunchbox.

They would come with me to therapy during the early days when I was way to scared to talk to anyone.

I had forgotten about my Monster Women. They are under my turtle tank right now and I’ve been thinking about them ever since I read yours and Xizor’s posts.

I read all the posts here this morning guys, and it made me feel that funny fluttery-good squiggle-bunny feeling that I haven’t felt in a long time. Admittedly, the feeling didn’t last too long, but I think it was evidence of my soul stirring mildly in its sleep. Your posts did something here to make me think that my soul hasn’t actually died yet.

I went to therapy this morning (without the Monster Women :frowning: ) and almost as soon as I sat down in the chair I erupted and exploded and there was big oily chunks of Turpentine all over the office. I usually have a hard time talking there.

Dr. Shrink Lady was concerned for my safety and she changed her mind about “waiting to see if this will pass” and she put me on anti-depressants right away, even got me an Effexor-XR “starter kit” and I took one this morning.

I was willing to settle for a placebo effect, but this is rather nice- I feel a bit nauseous and dizzy, but I have been reading about it today and that’s to be expected in the first 2 weeks. The feeling slightly physically ill is comforting to me, it makes me think that it’s working.
Besides, feeling ill is at least feeling SOMETHING, and I haven’t felt ANYTHING in a long time. Stopped caring.

This might get better. Thanks all. Maybe I’ve been feeling bad because I had abandoned my Monster Women.