What's the closest you've been to suicide?

I posted this in a similar thread I started, but it also applies here:

About two years ago , the local creek about two kilometers from my house was severely flooded due to a massive rainstorm. It was practically at flash-flood level. I was extremely depressed at the time, my ex-girlfriend was about to dump me, I was doing badly at school, I had only one good friend. I basically felt like I had no hope whatsoever, and saw no reason to continue living. So I walked down to the creek, and jumped in.

I was swept about a kilometer from where I jumped in. Finally, after I was dragged under a tree, and my glasses were knocked off, I realized I had made a mistake. So I pass by another small tree, and cling to it as hard as I can. It took every last ounce of my strength to get me out of the creek. I finally got back to my bike, and rode home, soaking wet. It was a long time before I told my parents about this.

I’m doing a lot better now, I got on some good medicine.

What’s the closest you’ve come?

Strangling myself with my school tie, at age 13-14 or so.

Ineffectually, as it turned out (like you couldn’t work that part out…).

Parents? Medicine??

I had a bottle of bleach up to my lips and the liquid was touching my lips. Thats about how close its come on this occasion. Not many people know this infact only me and one of my friends knows about it. I’m glad you guys are being able to eventually over some this.

love peace and happiness

~ poopsy ~

I may have told this before on here, but I don’t remember.

For me it was about 13-18 months ago - but I’m not sure I realized it at the time.

I had a job, a good job by all accounts. A new cow-orker (A) had come into the department in September 2001, and he and I clashed badly, to the point that my stress levels were through the roof, I was literally sick to my stomach every morning before I left the apartment and I spent my weekends dreading going back to that place on Monday.

It was not the coworker’s fault - but he was a catalyst. There had been several confrontations between he and I, we obviously didn’t like each other. The other coworker (B) in the department added more stress somehow - and I can’t really even describe how or why he did. I was in a job I didn’t really like (I liked it, but only to a point. It certainly wasn’t what I ever planned on doing) and I had to deal with these people every day. I liked my boss, but that was about it. I basically spent my days either angry or miserable - looking back, there were no real high points. I only looked forward to church. For some reason, my faith was stronger than it had ever been, despite (or perhaps because of) my misery.

Just before a trip out of the country with A (about 3 days before - plane tickets purchased and the like), there was another confrontation. As usual, he contacted the boss. Me, I just spent several days miserable - not because I thought I was going to get fired over it (although it could have happened). Absolutely miserable - dreading walking into the office each day, taking the train home and just feeling rotten - all I could see for the rest of my life was going into this miserable place, or doing the same job that I hated at some other company. I know that the idea of just stepping off the platform in front of the train occurred to me, but I kept convincing myself that I wouldn’t do it. I also remember driving around on the weekends and wishing I’d have a car wreck that ended with a broken leg or something - so I could not have to go into work. I did become reckless as a driver. I did not have a wreck.

The boss came back from her vacation before the trip with the coworker and called each of us into her office in turn. Not necessarily to discuss the problems, though that was part of it - a fairly big part. What she said to me though made a huge difference. It was simply “I get the impression that you’re not happy. That’s ok. I just want to tell you that if you don’t want to be in my job in five years, you’re in the wrong spot. I don’t want to lose you as an employee, but you need to be happy.” She had me in tears in her office. Because I’d been so miserable. She told me to think about it - that I didn’t have to go on the trip the next week if I didn’t want to. I did have a responsibility to make the trip, and I told her that. She told me to take the time, think about where I wanted to be. I had the week that I was out of the country, plus another week that she was on a trip before I had to tell her. She had me go for a walk to calm myself down - it was cold, I didn’t take my jacket, and I went up to the church near the office and just sat for a while. I think I already knew then.

She came back from her trip and I told her that I wanted to go to grad school, that I wanted to be a librarian. It’s what I’d always wanted, but I fell into this other lifestyle. She wrote one of my recommendations, I still talk to her/e-mail her fairly often. But now looking back, I know that I was getting incredibly desperate, and I might have done something really stupid the weekend before that trip if she hadn’t pulled me into her office that day. I honestly don’t know if I’d be alive now. Something in me doesn’t believe that I would be.

I know now that if I am not happy, I can change things. Just because I’m not where I want to be, doesn’t mean I can’t get there. I did not see a doctor or begin any medication. I do know what signs to look for now - but knowing that I’m in charge, and I need to make decisions, not drift along and let life take me where it may makes a huge difference.

I’ve never told the boss just what she may have done for me that day. I always mean to…but somehow it doesn’t come up. Because I am happy now. I may be broke, I may not have much, but I’m happy with where I am, where I’m going and who I have become and am becoming.

I tried, actually. Three times. Obviously I wasn’t very good at it.

After therapy (which I am still paying off), some medication and a lot of hard work, things did get better.

At about the age of 11 I hung myself from the stairs using the belt from a dressing gown. I felt myself pass out and my body shake (but no pain at all) then the belt broke and I fell (only a foot or so). I hid the marks on my neck by wearing polo-necked sweaters for the next few days after that. No one suspected, and I told no one at the time. I was 20 before I learnt about depression and the fact that it was potentially curable, I’ve been taking antidepressants ever since.

Cheers, Bippy

P.S. for blue_poop how is the preparation for your Africa trip going?

Oh, I was a teenager. Naturally pretty bummed to begin with for some years, there was an incident involving my father and my sister that made me a very angry person (and I still don’t know the full truth of that), it was about a week after a great national tragedy and everyone was down. And I was big whiner, did I mention that?

Not only was I a whiny bitch but I was also laughably incompetant. You would have laughed at me; then gone to hell for it, probably. It was a comedy of errors.
And me now? Parents never knew, couple friends knew but the relationship dissolved shortly afterwards. No medication, no consuling. There’s been some good music along the way. I’m good now.

When I was 15 years old, things were not going well between my mom and stepfather. Not that they’d EVER gone well between those two…they hated each other and my real dad, whom mom divorced when I was around 7 or 8 or so. It was Christmas Eve afternoon…around 1 pm. Mom and Dad were screaming at each other about something…I don’t remember what now. I hadn’t eaten at all t hat day in anticipation of the feast that was to come that night. Mom always holds a big family get-together on Christmas eve and everybody goes to midnight church together. Anyway…I was feeling really depressed because they were yelling at each other for like the thousandth time that week already and I didn’t know if I could stand it much longer. So I went into the bathroom and swallowed around 20-30 aspirin. I know…what a cheesy way to go, right? I went back in my room and laid down and watched “Dr.Who” re-runs on PBS and hoped I would die.
All it did was give me an ulcer and cause me to be allergic to aspirin.

IDBB

Last week, I tied several neckties together, tied the other end to the hanger in my closet, and threw myself off my wheelchair. I merely tethered myself to the pole. As it was late at night, I slept in my closet.

I was 56 and utterly despondent, for a lot of reasons. I swallowed 30+ prescription sleeping pills, plus about 20 prescription blood pressure pills. Marcie found me and got me to the hospital. She stood by me, encouraged me, helped me find a decent therapist and insisted on watching me take my depression medication. When I say that Marcie saved my life, I’m not just blowing smoke—without her, I’d be D&G right now.

erictelevision I’m really worried about you. I would like to require that you post everyday from now on, so that I might moniter your mood, but I am not a therapist or qualified to moniter a person’s mood through random thoughts spewed onto a message board. I tried to email you through your profile, to no avail. If you need an anonymous friend to talk with, please, PLEASE email me. My email is activated in my profile, and I’m a good listener.

I have only fantasized about suicide, to answer the OP. I used to use nail clippers to peck at my wrist where that huge vein is. I bled, I still have scars. I sometimes fantasize about how the traffic would move if I weren’t on the road and other situations to negate my existence, like what would really happen if a plan I just happen to be on crashes, if my tire blew and I was going 80 on the hghway, stuff like that. I’m too stubborn to stay on medication all the time, plus most of the people around me are against it for one reason or another. I have learned to function in my own episodic depression (balanced with mania and severe anxiety episodes as well. . .)

My father used to give me alcohol and muscle relaxers to make me easier to molest as a teenager. I tried sneaking extra so I would just never wake up but that didn’t work.

I went to the park and tried to work up the courage to drown myself in the pond but I was afraid it would take too long and be too painful. I wanted to die but not to suffer…

Finally I got out of my parents house and haven’t had a suicidal thought since.

Erm where to start… I have never been close to killing myslef and touch wood hope to never be in that situation. (Please forgive any mistakes had a few) But i Burried my best friend yesterday after he commited suicide. I’m not fishing for sympathy. But i just cant for the life of me come to terms with why he did it.

While he was home from university he got into a fight over a girl… Hurt the guy badly. The guy went to the police understandable. As they attended the same uni he was also suspended from his course. I never knew the details my friend was very embaresed by the whole thing.
Anyway my friend had an apearence in court last week… was told he would get 1 year.With the legal system in the UK would have served 3-6 months. anyway after that he killed himself.

Such a bloody waste, He was intellegent (In my class i was funny dave he was brainy dave) I really cant do the Man credit, He was just a nice guy.

I cant see how anybody can look at the world and Think It cant ever get better i want to die???

Squirebob, when you have depression like what I had, and what it seems like your friend had, nothing seems good. Everything seems bad to you. You ignore the good things in life, and think only of the bad things. You think you are just a burden to your friends and family, and that they are better off without you. One of the best analogies I heard was that it was like having your soul slowly torn piece by piece. I can fully understand what makes a person want to kill themselves.

Well squirebob I cannot speak for your friend and am sorry for your loss. There are never adequate words to comfort the grieving in these situations. (At least I never have them)

I can only say that when I tried suicide I felt so alone and isolated and unable to reach out to anyone else. I had tried to escape the hell that was my life by turning to someone I thought would help me. She only tossed me directly back at my abuser (my father) and I felt that if she, my own mother, didn’t feel I was worth anything why would anyone else in the world.

When you are in the midst of a situation that is spiralling quickly out of your control it can drive you to extremes. Sometimes you rise above their situation and sometimes you are buried by it.

Wakin g up the next morning to find that I had failed. On two separate occasions.

Once I got out from under Coleen(the pseudo mother person/gestation unit), I saw that I could have a life of my own and not be trapped under her dire predictions of my failure and inability to live on my own.

I just wish he had told me, anybody! I saw him 2 days before we arranged to got for a pint. when he got back up, I never knew i was the one of the only people he had told all this too.

There was no sign he was resigned he was going to prison. We arranged to go visit my girlfirend in Finland in the summer, go sailing. There was no sign that I could see. Some of u guys have been through very very very bad things and come through, i wish he had.

The Man With The Golden Gun, why did you use the exact same OP as the last time you posted about this?

This thread seems to gather some interesting responses, though, so I’m inclined to let it stay open. Just remember folks, a message board is NO replacement for an actual professional therapist. Suicidal thoughts are not something you should keep to yourself: get help, and don’t wait to do so. Everybody’s life is valuable enough to hold on to: if giving up is all you think about, get a better perspective, get professional help.

I was 23, I’d had a serious and VERY upsetting break-up with the guy I was crazy about at the time. I couldn’t let it go, and couldn’t get over it.

Like IDBB, I took aspirin. Yeah, it’s lame, but it was all I had. I got horrible ringing in my ears (side-effect of aspirin overdose), ended up getting my stomach pumped and got a week in the psych ward of the local hospital. (In 1976 they didn’t just let you go after something like that, especially when I wouldn’t tell them that, no, I wasn’t going to try that again.)

It took a long time for me to get over the whole thing. I’ve had problems with depression for a long time, but I’ve gradually learned ways to deal with it. I don’t take meds (but I would if I needed it – modern chemistry is wonderful).

I do occasionally have to remind myself that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Anyone entertaining these thoughts, GET HELP. There’s help out there, and better ways to handle any situation.

But as for me, I’m feeling much better.

Coldfire, because this post works for both threads. It is both a close shave with death, and is the closest I have been to suicide. Also, it felt pointless to write a different post for the exact same event. I don’t recall it being against the rules to use the same OP twice. If it is, I apologize.