6 things you need to know if you want to die

I get a lot of hits from people who google “help me kill myself”. I find this a little upsetting, because I can see exactly how many people find me through that phrase and for each and every one who visits with that in mind, I’m sorry.

If you’re feeling like killing yourself, there’s often not a lot that can be said to help you change your mind. But I hope you’ll take a moment to read what I’ve got to say, and perhaps follow my advice because there’s a few things you need to know.

To my faithful readers, please share in the comments your stories to provide hope for those who feel there is none. Particularly, I think it would be helpful to include things that have helped you when you have been in crisis.

Suicide

1)    You’re not alone

Did you know that most people will have thoughts of suicide at some point in their lives? It doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you (although it might be symptomatic of a mental health condition). It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person or that you’re not worthy. It means you’re human. And it means that you’re in a situation that you want out of.

2)    Suicide is a form of avoidance

Human beings love good feelings like love, joy, enthusiasm and motivation. We also love having good thoughts like “I’m so happy” or “What an awesome day”. But we hate feeling bad. We hate boredom, anger, sadness. We hate it when we experience bad thoughts in our heads.

If you’re feeling like killing yourself, it’s most likely because you’re in an awful situation that you want out of. And that’s okay, I mean, who wouldn’t want to get away from feeling terrible? The only issue is, when you’re thinking about ending your life you’re experiencing extremes of thought and feeling, and no one makes decent decisions when they’re under that amount of pressure.

3)   This is not the best time to make a decision

Often people who are wanting to commit suicide are experiencing extremes of thought and emotion and are overwhelmed. This makes it difficult to see clearly due to narrowed thinking. When our thinking narrows, we cannot fully evaluate situations and make decisions clearly. That’s not your fault, that’s just the way it is. It’s not a good idea to make a life ending decision in the midst of a personal crisis. 

So what do you do about it?

4)    Wait it out. Things will change.

The only thing certain in life is that things will change. I’ve wanted to end it all too, and at the time I thought it was the right decision, that I would never feel any different. I was so certain of it. But I was so wrong.

One day – it could be moments from now, or a day, or a week – killing yourself won’t seem like a good idea. And even if it’s for a moment, take a second to appreciate that this moment may be a moment of clarity in an otherwise turbulent existence. I can guarantee you that things will change in time, and I encourage you to mark it on a calendar or in your diary (electronic or paper) when you find you don’t want to do it, even if you only doubt it for a second.

5)    Think about someone you love and someone who loves you

When I’ve felt like killing myself I always thought about my Mum. Imaging what this act would do to her always made me feel so guilty that I would never take it any further.

If you think that no one will care, that is just a sign that you are not thinking clearly and it’s not a good time to make any decisions.

When it comes to suicide people always care. Even if you think they don’t. Even if you think there’s no one out there who loves you or cares about you, there is. It might be your parents, a friend, a lover, or even an acquaintance. But when someone attempts or completes a suicide there is always at least one person (usually more) who says “I wish I could have done something”.

6)    Talk to someone you trust

People do want to help you. All you have to do is ask. Find a trusted friend, family member, a doctor, or other health professional and share your thoughts with them. If you’re feeling like no one cares about you, this is a great way to find out that they do. Other people have an amazing way of seeing the way out of horrible situations even when we can’t.

You can also call a suicide hotline. There are thousands of people who work suicide hotlines because they care about you and your future. Even if they don’t know you, they care enough to hope that you will call in your time of need and that they can help you through.

USA Hotlines:         1-800-Suicide or 1-800-273-TALK

UK Hotlines:            Call the Samaritans on 08457 90 90 90

Australia:                Call Lifeline on 13 11 14

New Zealand:          Call Lifeline on 0800 543 354

If you are in immediate danger of harming yourself please phone the emergency number in your country. 

 

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Good Morning Anxiety

This morning I woke up to Anxiety pounding on my chest and yelling “get up!” So ambled throughout the day feeling lethargic and apathetic. I didn’t have an appetite and I certainly didn’t feel like socialising (even though I had to). You see, Anxiety has been a bit of a problem for me over the past few months. That’s part of the reason why I didn’t write  for so long. Things going on in my life like my illness and issues with my partner had led me to feel as though everything I thought I knew was not at all like I imagined it. Not just a little bit, but literally, everything  was turned upside down and inside out until I had no idea what was what anymore. The ground wasn’t just shaking, it was completely gone and I was suspended in the middle of nowhere thinking “what the hell has happened to me?”.

I’ve been feeling a lot better recently. I’ve had therapy you see, to learn to deal with my situation better, and to learn to cope with the anxiety and the thoughts and physical sensations that go along with it. So when I woke up this morning it was a bit of a shock. I didn’t actively feel anxious, my body just was anxious. And so that is how my day began.

I got along alright. I went to work, I cleaned the house and I met a friend for coffee. But all the time anxiety was pounding on my chest saying “listen to me, there’s danger, you need to do something about it”. So what did I do?

I took a bath. Not just any bath, but an incredibly hot bath surrounded by candles and filled to the brim with luxurious bubbles. I put on a face mask, got in that bath, sank down and took the time to just breath. I felt my breath go in and out, and I literally felt my anxiety drift away. I felt my enthusiasm for my life return and I enjoyed each and every moment of the hour I spent in there.

Now, I feel relaxed. Anxiety is still there, deep under the surface. For whatever reason, my body thinks there’s danger about. But I feel better able to cope with it now. I feel more like my normal self.

And the moral of the story is?

Today I reminded myself that it’s better to face anxiety head on rather than pretend it isn’t there. I learnt that taking the time to do something for myself is helpful, even if I don’t think it will be. I rarely stop and take a moment to just be, to just relax. Allowing myself to be anxious, and offering myself respite and compassion when I am instead of beating myself up about it has turned out the be the most relaxing experience I’ve had all year.

What do you do when you feel anxious or stressed? Are you compassionate or do you berate yourself? 

I don’t want any new friends, thanks.

300mg Quetiapine (The withdrawal has ceased. There is no timeline to begin again). 

Bipolar and me; we’ve been together for a while. At least 13 years by my count, maybe longer but no shorter. We’re friends really. We’ve spent a lot of time together over the years, been through a lot. There have been good times, and there have been bad times, and there have been plenty of them. Bipolar is quieter now. But every now and then it stops in to say hello. It’s a relationship. A bond. It’s not a battle anymore. It’s just me and Bipolar. We’re together, and I’m okay with that.

I didn’t always think this way. There was a time when I thought Bipolar was the worst thing in the world. Where it seemed completely unmanageable, and insurmountable. Where it seemed as though the suffering would never end. But it did, as it always does, and I bounce back to being me. It’s our pattern. It’s our thing, and I’m okay with that.

But close friendships like this, they best work in pairs. That’s what I think. There’s no room for intruders. We don’t want to share our space, our secrets, our lives with anyone else. It’s me and bipolar, and no one else. I learnt to be okay with that.

Except, now we have Arthritis at our door, and it won’t leave us alone. Like an unwanted visitor, it showed up one day when we least expected it and refuses to leave because it knows that we’re inside. It saw me turn the lights off when it pulled up in the drive. I’ve got the door  firmly shut but it’s sitting out there, waiting for us to let it in.

Knock, knock, knock.

But, bipolar and me, we won’t answer. We’re not in. No one is here. We don’t need anymore friends.

Except, this is not how things work in reality. I’d like to say it is, but it isn’t. There is no door, and if there was, arthritis would have broken it down long ago and I’d be lying on the couch in an illness sandwich. Mental on one side, physical on another, and me in the middle. They’d think it was a game, fun even but it wouldn’t be. No one likes to get squished.

The truth is, no matter how hard I want to close that door and pretend that arthritis isn’t out there. It is. And it’s not really out there at all. It’s in me. It’s in my house. It’s  made itself at home.

Threesomes have never been my thing. But at some point, I’m going to have be okay with it.