Did you ever commit suicide?

[monk]

Yes, back in my early thirties - really bad times that I don't like to think about any more.

Thank God I failed - I met my soul-mate two years later.

[sonofthemanse]

I haven't thought about committing suicide for years, I'm glad to say. Even when I did think about it, I never acted on those thoughts as I'm so squeamish it's ridiculous! I don't mean to take this thread on a tangent but I've got a question to ask those who successfully committed suicide, just out of interest: I take on board what was said about cardiac arrest and proper death being different, but did anyone happen to see bright lights, pearly gates or anything?

[Bowyn Aerrow]

I committed murder - self murder. No matter how technical you want to get about the point where life ends and death starts, the fact is I died - I murdered myself.

That act and the stopping of my heart and lungs redefined me as a person. It redefined my character.

The person before you today is far nicer than the person I was prior to my death. I had become so vicious that I took great pleasure in teasing people to my side then systematically tear them down, belittle them, hurt them - for sport.

I had the great looks - skin deep beauty and was most attractive - physically. It was easy for me to pull in victims, get a free drink then proceed to tear them apart, belittling them, pointing out their flaws and daring them to come up with one good reason why they could possibly think they had a chance with 'dating' me. I brought many men to tears and enjoyed every single moment of it.

Prior to my death I had lost a lot of goodness. I had become cold and 'soulless' - uncaring to the plight of humanity, lacking empathy and compassion for the troubles of my fellow man.

Prior to my death I used drugs, drank excessively and lashed out left and right no one was safe around me.

My death redefined me, gave me back my humility and my humanity.

After my death, during that first year where I existed between life and death had anyone dared to tell me the technical differences between life and death either I would have gone to plan B (The Golden Gate Bridge) or I would have reverted into that perverse, evil creature I was prior to my death.

After my death I stopped using drugs, I stopped excessive drinking. My heart actually started beating again and I regained that human part of my soul that 28 years before had managed to kill.

I stopped purposefully hurting people and started helping again.

It is the idea that I died that changed me the most. It is the thought that my own mortality is real that breathed life back into my soul. It is the dim awareness that I had died after committing murder that prompts me to walk the straight and narrow and remember that we all hurt, that we are all deserving of compassion and empathy.

David I totally understand what you're trying to say. However you did not die, that would make you a zombie, and you're not a zombie. Just because one's heart stops doesn't mean the flesh (more accurately tissue) dies immediately. It means the flesh is deprived of oxygen, without oxygen various tissues begin the process of dying. But it takes time for all systems to completely stop working, which is why cardiac arrest is not a painless death. After the heart stops there is still plenty of oxygen in the body to continue life for a very small amount of time longer. Therfor if the heart can be started again, the oxygen is replenished and death never comes in the first place. Death is much more complicated than just the heart stopping.
It would be more accurate to say that you came extremely close to dying twice yet were revived at the last minute each time. Revived or resuscitated not reborn.

[zeon]

Back when i was 10 and had had enough of being abused at home i decided to one day after swimming and some thinking walk infront of a car travelling at 40MPH... What i didnt take into account is the fact that when your hit by a car your instantly knocked out so its quick and painless and as you go all floppy and relax you just bounce... Wasnt until i came round and noticed my kneecap is missing a few vitial pieces such as skin and muscle and all i can see is pure bone i suddenly thought.... Bollocks time for the hospital what made matters worse.... person who hit me... I knew as was a family friend... WASNT IMPRESSED! Wasnt until i was with my mum earlier this year i explained the truth about my abuse from the childhood from a old partner of hers and she was very apologetic

[jaxc]

I haven't really thought about suicide per say, but my family does sometimes make want to blow my brains out:tongue:

[Puck]

Twice.

The first time was when I was 15. I was just coming to terms with myself and it seemed everywhere I looked, hatred for gays and lesbians was flourishing. In my home, in my school, on the streets....even in online video games the typical insult for another gamer was "you motherfucking faggot"

No one wanted to hear my concerns. I told one of my teachers I thought I was close to, and when he finished listening to me, he proceeded to tell me I was an abomination, that I was mired in sin, that every day I carried these sinful urges was like spitting in god's eye, that I was disgracing my family and if I had any pride in myself, I would enter into a rehabilitation program to "cure" my immoral thoughts (obviously by now you will understand I attended a very strict religious school)

Everyone in my life at the time shared my teacher's opinions, not understanding I can no more change my sexuality than they can theirs. It got to the point where I felt I was worthless, that if so many people felt this way and I was the lone dissenter, then perhaps I was in the wrong all along.

I took a bottle of sleeping pills and downed a handful after locking myself in my grandparent's bathroom. My grandfather apparently broke down the door after I was unresponsive and found me lying on the bathroom tiles unconscious and breathing extremely shallowly. He called 911 and the paramedics took me to the hospital where I was revived, but had to undergo a mental evaluation in regards to my sanity (report was I was possessed of above average intelligence, but exhibited symptoms of manic depression...gee wonder why?)

The second time was when I was 23. I had just come out to my mom after crying my eyes out over the prospect of doing so. After I finished telling her I was gay, I lay my head on her lap like a child and just started weeping uncontrollably. She pushed my head off her lap, told me to "quit being a fucking crybaby and act your god damned age" and that she had known for some time I was gay...that she didn't approve of my "life choice" and that future lovers would not be welcome in her house under any circumstance. My brothers called me a disgusting fag and said they hoped a car would hit me and I'd go to hell where I belonged (my sister was the only supportive one in my whole family)

I have a heart condition and the stress was causing me to hyperventilate and not get enough oxygen. My chest felt like it was on fire and I was worried sick I was on the thresh-hold of having a heart attack. I was told to "stop being a drama queen...but then again that's what you people do best" and told to leave for the night.

Overwhelmed with sorrow, I went to a friend's house and asked if I could come in and stay for awhile. He was so kind to me and understanding it just opened up a whole new wellspring of self-loathing and guilt and sorrow in myself (I don't know why his kindness should have done that...then again, I'm a manic depressive...symptom of that perhaps?)

I asked to use his restroom where I stole his antique razor, came out and told him I needed a cigarette and some time to collect myself.

I was literally just about to slit my wrists when he came barging out, yelling at me to stop and talk to him (he claimed he had a horrid feeling something terrible was about to happen wash over him the moment I stepped out and needed to act on his impulses)

We ended up talking the whole night through and crying in each other's arms (something I have rarely seen a straight man do with another man, especially a gay one in today's homophobic society)

Thanks to friends like him as my lifeline, I haven't felt any urges like that since.....if there is an all-powerful deity out there, I hope it showers my friend with many blessings.

[Miles]

@wintermoon: Hey man, if the all-wise elders are telling you that you're an abomination, I can see why you'd feel undeserving of your friend's compassion. =(

Thank who/whatever powers that be for those friends who can feel what's really going on, beyond all that nonsense. =)

[dfiant]

Wintermoon, thank you so much for sharing your story. I am so pleased that you have such and awesome friend and share not only a unique bond but also a unique connection.

Chin up, eyes forward

[monk]

Wintermoon, it breaks my heart to hear how you were treated so appallingly. I hope you now know, with hindsight, that they were wrong and you are right.

[gilhooly]

Great posts, thanks guys. I forgot to mention about becoming a zombie. Im 2001, a doctor said I should take Zoloft, an antidepressant. For about 6 months I felt like a zombie. I thought suicide might feeel like Zoloft. Zoloft was nice, I felt NOTHING. My doctor said that was exactly what I should feel. NOTHING.

I found that I had forgotten how to read. I could not remember my own name. Something else seemed to be missing. I weaned myself from Zoloft and 2 weeks later I woke up with my first morning erection. I had forgotten if I was gay or straight. I had forgotten how to masturbate. I had forgotten what an orgasm felt like.

Later I was told my psychiatrist was a Christian fundamentalist pretending to be a doctor, just like Michele Bachmann's filthy husband who castrates men and boys with antidepressants claiming they are saving your soul from hell.

Fuck you, doctor, I can figure out how to save my own soul. I considered killing the stupid son of a bitch but I decided to remain a pagan. Killing is only justified when someone is trying to kill you. I would sure like to take a set of pinking shears to his balls. He should have told me he was practicing his goofy religious ideas on me.

Zoloft turned me into a zombie who didn't notice my prostate, testicles and penis didn't work. I am sure glad I weaned myself from Zoloft. A mild form of suicide. You are alive but you feel NOTHING.