suicide Archive

My Thoughts on Guns as a Mentally Ill Person

Trigger Warning: Descriptions of violence, mentions of suicide and gun use.

As I watch mass shooting after mass shooting play out on CNN and Obama’s recent town hall on guns, the same themes play out over and over. The mentally ill are consistently blamed for gun violence as a convenient scapegoat to avoid facing the real culprit for gun violence: toxic masculinity and the sheer ease and availability of gun ownership in America.

Christian, A Poem About Grief

I would like to welcome the newest member of our writing team, Rose. In her first post with us, she shares her feelings about the loss of her beloved dog. Thanks for sharing with us, Rose!

While I was in residential treatment for self harm, my dog and lifelong friend and brother died. He was very sick and had to be put down so he wouldn’t suffer anymore. My family is still shaken up.

Suicide, In Memory of their son fifteen months ago.

Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide, and grief.

I was walking on Eight Avenue to catch my bus when I stopped abruptly causing the couple which I has just passed to stop as well. The only thing I heard, was “are you going to talk this loud all night so that everyone could here what you say,” followed by laughter. The laughter peaked my curiosity so I turned and said what was so funny. The wife said you heard me, I said no all I heard was your husband and asked her what did you say, her reply, there goes a man I would love to have sex with as they continued to laugh.

Im So MAD

TW: suicidal thoughts, abuse

All of this could’ve been prevented. All I needed was my mother to support me, build up my self esteem, get me help for my eating disorder, be someone I could talk to. Instead she tore down what little self esteem I had bit by bit, contributed to my eating disorder, and was generally untrustworthy, unpredictable, and indecipherable.

Confessions of a First Time Cutter

I just cut myself, intentionally, for the first time, perhaps only 10 minutes before I started writing this sentence. I am now a cutter. I don’t know if I’ll ever do it again, but I needed to do something, I needed a release. Pressure has been back building in my life for a little bit now, and lately it’s like someone opened the valves wide open. It’s… unpleasant. After a conversation with someone, I hit my limits and I felt outright suicidal.

When a Friend Threatens to Commit Suicide (Trigger Warnings)

Trigger Warning: Suicide, Self Harm, Relationship Abuse

It is three-thirty in the morning here and over the past twenty-four hours I have learnt a harsh lesson. It is a lesson that has left me feeling tired and drained, vulnerable and hurting, awful and selfish. Around twenty-four hours ago, a close friend (an online friend if you feel the need to know) threatened to commit suicide. She posted in a group saying that she could just not handle life any longer, that it was too much and that she was going to kill herself.

My Experience with Detox and Outpatient Rehab

My alcoholism reached a head in spring of 2013, brought to desperation by the death of my wife and my subsequent despair. By this point I was drinking from three pm onward everyday, first wine and then vodka, whiskey or rum. Nothing would bring her back, but I could annihilate myself. It was starting to dawn on me, though, that this was making me nothing but miserable. I wasn’t going anywhere or doing anything. I wasn’t socializing or running errands. I could barely cook. Being on disability, I wasn’t working. My full-time job was getting to the bottom of the bottle.

Death and the aftermath

My wife died four months ago. We had fought the night before, ending with her saying she was taking a bunch of pills. I thought she was joking. I woke up next to a corpse. I woke up with a black eye I didn’t remember getting and spent five minutes trying to clean the vomit from around her mouth until I realized she was dead. Time stands still, memories fail. I called 911 and the person on the line tried to get me to move her from the bed to the floor. I tried, moving a women my same height to the floor, dancing with rigor mortis. A rush of urine. It was then, holding that corpse, that it first hit me.

Hospital Epiphanies

I was taken to the hospital via ambulance and certified so that I wouldnt escape. And I spent the night in a holding cell in the Emergency Room. I saw the psychiatrist in the morning and they changed my meds and made me an out-patient appointment so that I could continue to see this psychiatrist and get care as I didnt at the time have a psychiatrist that was following me at all.

Brother Mine

I’m afraid you have become furniture, brother mine.

Nothing but an engraved box among a hollow wooden desk.

You’re not longer those books your read, the letters that lined

The inside of your throat and tongue. You’re no longer

The songs you played with shaking fingers and bouncing

Legs at three AM when the world finally dozed to sleep.