My first attempt at suicide was weak, when, at age 7 I took a handful of random medication (12 pills at the most) and tried to prove to myself that I wasn't afraid of dying. Understandably, my 7-year-old-self cuddled up to my mom and went to bed terrified. I didn't yet have the resolve to end this meaningless, dull existence.
Let's see what you can really do in life:
- Spend time with friends/family
- Go to a restaurant
- Spend time in a hobby
- Do some sort of recreational activity
- Sleep
- Pay taxes
- Eat shit and die
I don't really see the point in delaying the inevitable, in watching myself grow old and wither away. You work 45+ years and your reward is being able to barely scrape enough together to afford your medical and funeral bills. Or maybe your consolation for a hard-fought life is getting divorced and losing half of everything. This kind of life simply isn't for me.
More importantly, my family has always had a genetic predisposition to depression. My grandpa was bipolar, and my brothers and I have fought depression our entire lives. In the end, one of my brothers lost his battle when he used a 9mm pistol to take his own life. Before the act, he would lay in bed deep into the day, and be kept awake well past midnight.
After the loss of my brother, my immediate family slowly drifted apart. All of us were consumed by copious amounts of guilt, but especially my mom. She would pass only a year after my brother, also in December. For the year leading up to her death, she was a shell of a person. She would lie in bed like my brother, matching both his blank stare and depressive aura. Although I miss my mom, I do have some peace in knowing that she's reunited with her lost son.
With all of this being said, I've spent the last couple of years - outside of a few family members and a therapist - with no real outlet to talk about all of this. There's still a very big stigma around depression, particularly suicide. My time throughout high school was entirely lonely and isolating. Many of my beliefs are unpopular, and instead of trying to convince me otherwise, others would shame and label me. If I ever opened up about me and my family's struggle with mental health, I was always met with ridicule, or at best, pity. In society, there's a very obvious lack of empathy.
I've always lacked a clear channel to discuss these controversial, yet vital topics in my life. When I stumbled upon SS it was like I had struck gold. Being met with a community that thought and felt much of the same way I did was an extremely liberating experience. From thinking I was alone in my beliefs, to finding an entire community of like-minded individuals was a complete paradigm shift.
From philosophy to suicide, I'm here to challenge my beliefs and engage with other free-thinkers.
Well first of all, I'm very sorry to hear about your loss. I know it's been difficult.
As we both know and have experienced, - in a very morbid way - losing someone to suicide is very unique experience. I can't speak for you, but after losing my brother to suicide, I was entirely consumed by guilt. This was due to the thought of maybe having been able to prevent his death, and it just felt wrong to be happy. For the months after I lost my brother, I would catch myself being happy and always feel ashamed; I felt like a terrible sibling for being able laugh and smile after such a devastating loss.
Oftentimes, I would imagine him looking down at me from Heaven, watching as I'm forced to move on with my life. I can't even comprehend what it must be like to watch your friends and family gradually, day by day, forget about you. I can't imagine what he'd be like had he lived. My memory of him is just that, nothing more than a relic of the past. As much as it pains me to say: I no longer know who my brother is, only who he once was.
That isn't even the worst of everything, the stigma around suicide even further adds to ever-deepening sense of loneliness felt after the death of a family member. I don't know that calling it loneliness does it justice, despair maybe?
I could go on, but I think it's for the best that I don't. You mentioned feeling conflicted; I'm in a similar state of ambivalence myself. I don't really want to live or to die, but of course having the option of being able to press a button and not exist would be too convenient.
Well hey, this is a little about me, but I'd love to do hear what the grieving process has looked like for you. This, or maybe some good qualities of your nephew that you think deserved being mentioned. I'm not expecting any identifiable information, and or for you to talk about it if it's too uncomfortable for you. If that
is the case, then I totally understand.
is appreciated.
