Today, the 10th of September, is World Suicide Prevention Day. This is a short passage on my own experiences and thoughts about suicide. It does not contain any graphic content nor traumatic life events. It just hasn’t been like that.
I find it very hard to remember things precisely and so have something more like beliefs about the past than hard and fast memories. And I know these beliefs could be wrong, but they are all I have to go on.
When I was in my first school, anywhere between 4 and 7 years old, there was a teacher who was very strict and I was afraid of. One of the ways I reacted was never to ask to go to the toilet in her class, so I would poo in my underwear and carry it around until I got home. Another way, as I remember it, is that I would sit on the windowsill in my room and think about jumping out the 1st floor window, whether I would die and probably how others would react. I never did, but have been more or less obsessed with suicide ever since. There were times when it was an active thought, involving ever evolving plans which would occur many times an hour. At other times it has been more a background part of my mental landscape. This is what is called “suicidal ideation”, I think. These plans were fantasies rather than specific intentions and certainly when I was younger I think a lot of them involved fantasies about how my death would affect other people. This might reasonably be called self pity, but I want it to be heard without its pejorative connotations. I needed soothing and did so with fantasies about how sad other people would be if I killed myself; I don’t blame my younger self for finding that.
Even without self pity, thoughts about suicide became my happy place. Whenever I needed mentally soothing that’s what I would think about, really fantasize about. This continued until the last few years when I have started to observe my habits of thought and repeating emotional experiences with a more keen and objective eye. Even though the suicide as soother still happens in my mind, I now observe it and consider that it is probably not the greatest strategy I could have and think about it more than think it.
There have been other times when the noose of mental anguish has been tighter and in those times the fantasies have become less fantastical and more practical. I have considered more readily available means, and the consequences of these. I have imagined how my suicide might affect my family and wished to find ways to reduce this. I know the effect of a family suicide can have consequences for children and have never found this an acceptable price for my nieces and nephews to pay, and have resented them for it. I have thought about how much longer I can go on without acting. I have never made preparations or specific plans. It is my belief that if I ever attempt suicide I would be successful; I would not leave anything to chance or badly executed. I guess the unexpected could happen even then.
A long time ago I started to assume that I would eventually die by my own hand. I don’t inherently think this is a bad thought. It is part of my wish for control maybe. Even a happy life might be ended by choice during the last stretch, if it is painful or ugly, and I don’t consider this sad or regrettable. But an early death motivated by unbearable psychic anguish is sad if the pain could have been relieved enough to remove the motivation. And a life run through with suicidal ideation as a coping mechanism might be improved enough to make the strategy unnecessary or unhelpful, and by changing its use.
These days I fantasize about my own death and suicide much less and acknowledge how these thoughts have comforted me, but also tied me to suicide as a coping mechanism per se. I seek to accept myself everyday exactly as I am – which isn’t easy. My expectations are astronomical; they must be tamed and I must seek joy in what is. As a result of these changes I have sometimes felt contentment and serenity I could not have predicted, but everything passes and so sometimes depression moves in. I see it much more as an unwelcome occupier these days, like an infection or poisoning rather than an aspect of my identity, that can also direct my thoughts to places that will prolong and worsen my suffering. I try to catch these and say “I saw that Depression. I’m gonna think about my fantasy ice cream combinations instead.” It sounds trivial but such a diversion can save me from an unending meditation on “I’m useless and should be dead”. Perhaps I should also be grateful that this is available to me, since I doubt it is to everyone who suffers.
I want to help prevent suicide in that I want to prevent the conditions that compel people to do it, and to prevent the suffering that others experience because of it. I think a good start is for people to talk openly and honestly, with someone who will be non judgmental, about their feelings and thoughts including suicidal ones.
The Samaritans (UK and Ireland) offers emotional support, including talking about suicide, by phone on 116 123 and email jo@samartians.org. Have a happy day if you can, and if you cannot, my heartfelt hopes for your future.
New Work 