I am 34 years old, a Navy Corpsman Veteran, and a lifelong sufferer of depression and suicide ideas. i am a survivor. I live at home with my wife and our 4 children, dog, and cat named Nuisance. my oldest son is high function autistic, and the evidence is mounting that i may be as well. Please enjoy this poem i wrote for submission to NAMI in the hope that you will know, well, that you are not alone.

IN THE LAND OF SANITY

I strode to the land of humans,

 through the mists of time and tide

I climbed to the place the sane people live

Through lands of the dead and blind

I walked to the edge of sanity

From the other side of fear

And I looked in the magic mirror

The people had placed over there.

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About twenty percent of teens experience depression before they reach adulthood. Depression can come from more than just stress or conflicts. Biological chemistry, genetics, or childhood trauma can also be causes of depression. Untreated depression is the number one cause of suicide in the world. Every day, 5,400 teens attempt suicide, and on January 8, 2014, I was one of them. Today, I am one of the 4.5 million survivors of a suicide attempt.
I hadn’t noticed myself becoming depressed, I just suddenly realized one day that I was. I became sad, irritable, angry, frustrated, and apathetic. I lost interest in everything I had once enjoyed. I became fixated on all of my past failures. I felt worthless and constantly criticized myself. Eventually, I started to self-harm. I used to think there was no point, no point of struggling through life if we all die anyways. I had lost hope. I thought I was helpless. I thought there wasn’t a person, or a thing, that could ever get me back to the way I used to be.

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I have been dealing with depression for over 10 years now, I have lupus which makes me depressed and have attempted suicide recently. It is a up hill battle with me where I get in a depression state during the winter time I would say its the winter blues. It is very important to speak with professionals and get the help you need. I feel hopeless not wanting to be around anymore have no support and just want to sleep and never wake up again. 

This subject is a touchy one but I can’t seem to get it out of my head. I have clinical depression, anxiety and have personally been through it all. When I say all…I’m talking about suicide. I don’t even know where to start. There is a 99.9% chance you don’t know that I have attempted suicide. You may have seen my scars that cover my arms and legs. What you don’t see is that they are on my stomach, ankles and chest as well.

Another thing you may not know about me: In my freshman year, I took over 350 pain pills in an attempt to end my life. I had just turned fourteen at that time. I felt I had just started living. I didn’t tell my Mom that I was depressed and suicidal. How can you tell the woman who gave you life that you don’t want it anymore?

The night I tried to end my life still haunts me. I can still smell the pills, I can still taste the coating on the pills. It was so hard to breath. I went into the spare bedroom so I could open the window and breath fresh air. I remember how hard it was to walk. Specifically, I remember how I felt when I though was about to take my last breath.

The regret, the tears staining my face and the dizziness. I remember it all. When I realized what I had done, I instantly regretted it. I thought about all the things I hadn’t done and would never get the chance to do. I had never driven a car. I had never gone to Florida. I had never met my brother. I had never been a aunt. I didn’t finish high school. I would never go to college. I would have never seen my sister walk down the isle. I would have never fallen in love nor felt true love. Above all, I wouldn’t have told my family and friends that I loved them enough. My best friend would think she didn’t do enough, my mother would blame herself, my siblings wouldn’t have me anymore.

At this point, all of this raced through my mind.

At this point, I realized I didn’t want to die.

Although I would leave letters, I knew the letters couldn’t bring me back. I knew they wouldn’t help. Letters wouldn’t answer the questions that my family and friends would have. They wouldn’t wipe away the tears on there faces. The people that love and care about me would never hear my laugh again, never see me smile again nor would they ever have me in their lives again.

I realized someone would find me dead. Most likely, that would be my Mom. As I thought of that, it occurred to me that I would never forgive myself for even almost permitting this to become a remote possibility. I can never apologize enough for what I was planing. But what I can do is to be here for the my family and friends. I also want to be here for the people who are considering suicide.

I still have days where when I wake up I ask God why am I here. Why keep me alive? Then I have other days when everything is perfect and I think why I wanted to die. I have people that love me. I have people who care. I am so sorry for the people who feel the way I do. But I am here. I will be here for these people. I will live on and I will do whatever I can to help. I will pay it forward.

If I had one wish, I wouldn’t wish for money, or successes. I would wish that no one will ever feel like the way I did. I don’t want anyone to ever experience these feelings. I think of suicide as ending a book that isn’t finished yet.

Hi my name is Linda and I am a 51 year old who has been struggling with depression for most of my life.  I would like to share my story of my struggle with mental illness and suicide.  I have become BOLD with regards to sharing my battle with depression and suicide in hopes that I may reach at least one person and help them with their struggle or help someone to understand what it is like to have this disease.

In high school, the depression presented itself in a big way and I really began to struggle with self-worth and hopelessness.  Then suicidal thoughts started coming to the forefront.  Back in the 80’s depression and suicide were things that most people didn’t talk about and would keep behind closed doors.  I really didn’t understand what was going on.  All I knew was that I didn’t like myself and I felt that I was no good to anyone.  At that point, all I could think about was ridding myself of the hurt and pain I was feeling. 

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I’m currently doing a project on Suicide and why not start it out by sharing my story?

I’m a 14 year old whose been through a lot. Some might say being 14 and depressed is just phase and it’ll end soon, maybe a week but really, it’s kinda torture. Ever since I started school at the age of 5 to now I’ve been depressed and suicidal. I didn’t even know I was suicidal at the age of like 7! But during 5th grade when I was sick at school and I was being bullied pretty bad that day, I tried talking to my teacher about it but she refused my requests saying I was just “Tattle telling and ruining their fun”. So that night I went home, took a knife my Father had and tried to commit suicide. If my Brother wasn’t home, I most likely wouldn’t be typing this now. But as I get older, the torture of this darkness named Depression rained over me and I began cutting. I thought I didn’t have anyone with me. I had friends who left, I had adults who yelled at me whenever I was being bullied. I thought I had nobody. But over the years I learn I am supporting myself and the only way to fight this demon is too fix myself and what I do to control this monster.

I call my monster Luciean, I have a penguin plush who guards me named Walter. I hear them from time to time, even see them. Even if my depression is symbolized in something I love to draw, I still can’t hide from it. But I’m currently trying. Trying makes effort, and effort makes a masterpiece. Depression is not something someone can just get over, it’s something people live with, but together we can fight it. We can stop suicide. 

My son Anthony died by suicide three weeks ago. Anthony was different, he was close to being an Angel. I came home from work and found my son dead on his bed. I can’t say I was totally be shocked but I was .He faced depression and always told me it was under control. He laughed daily and hid the real pain and inside. I miss him so much. He was 26. 

Anthony Williams 8/1992_4/2019

Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.  

In your desire to help someone with depression, you may have repeated this common expression.  You probably hoped that with this clever statement a suicidal person would dismiss thoughts of suicide.  These few simple words strung together would, you assume, certainly convey a profound understanding that even the suicidal person would connect with.  Just like telling someone that “haste makes waste” will persuade them to slow down and plan their actions rather than rushing through a task.  If only life was that easy.

Two elements of this statement show that the person who coined it (Phil Donahue?) has no understanding of depression and suicide.  Upon hearing these words, I shut down because the well-meaning person is speaking from a point of ignorance.  And worse, confronting a serious issue like depression and suicide with a catchy phrase is insulting.  If a clever saying, song lyric, or wives’ tale was a cure, I would be forever happy.  Here’s what’s wrong with this statement. 

Temporary problem. 

Temporary?  You have no idea.  I’ve been living with depression my entire life.  There is nothing temporary about it.  It’s not like a bad cold – feed a fever, starve a cold – that will just go away with enough time.  No, this is a permanent condition I have to deal with.  It’s not that sad feeling when my dog died.  That feeling is temporary and fades over time.  But my depression is always with me.  It’s part of me.  I have to manage it every day, permanently.

Solution.

You just told me that suicide is a solution.  That is what I’m looking for.  It’s not the solution you are advocating but at least you recognize it as a solution.  I’m trying all of the treatments – therapy, antidepressant medication, mindfulness, meditation, etc.  They are useful and have carried me through some tough times.  But I haven’t found a cure except for the solution we both recognize.  Most of the time, I want to avoid that single-use solution.  Yet, you just validated suicide as a solution.

I appreciate your desire to help me.  And I know that unless you suffer from depression you will never know what I am experiencing.  But please spare me from the trite and ill-informed phrases.  Ask me how I’m doing or what I have planned.  You can even ask me what is bothering me or if I’m feeling suicidal.  Just please don’t say, “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”

My son has suffered from a low level autism (aspergers) all of his life. In his teens, (one suicide attempt at 16) which developed into depression and in his late twenties, schizophrenia. As the news widely publicised the use of anti depressants in teens caused increased suicide attempts, he chose to not use meds. His health insurance company glossed over and ignored the symptoms. Their only treatment was group therapy, and the leader threw him out of group for having his own opinion.  There was zero follow up of his case. He had his first break while touring Thailand and we had to send a family member there to bring him back. As long as he stayed well rested and hydrated, he was able to maintain control. As he approached 30, the paranoia and depression intensified, but as he was an adult, we were helpless to get him help and he didn’t feel he needed it. He is very bright and a self taught computer programmer but his inability to get/keep a job frustrated his dad, who insisted he move out and start his life.  

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Depression is one of the worlds most common health problem. It’s kind of like a cold but there is a grim difference between a cold and depression. Depression can kill. Suicide is a common “escape” from depression and I find one of the reasons why it is that way today is because people take it too lightly, bottle it up, and don’t talk about it. Talking about it can worsen or better the problem and in my case it helps me cope. Actually most people don’t bother to care until someone tries to take their own life. As someone who suffers from depression and struggles to love their self I figured I would open some eyes, hearts and minds. I’m not about to share what happened to scare people or to get sympathy but to simply explain how serious of a matter it all is. Too many people today think attempting suicide is selfish and not thinking about others. I can tell you from what I was feeling I felt anyone who knew me would be better off. I honestly believed that. It’s taken me a lot of learning and growing to realize I am not defined by my illness but by my courage and strength. I’m not defined by what others think, only by Christ. I’m also far from being defined by events that have happened to me. Sometimes being courageous can save a life, perhaps your own.

I didn’t start my 2016 year off with a good start. On January 3rd of this year I took the courageous step of getting help. It was a Sunday afternoon and I was supposed to be getting ready for my normal 12 hour night shift at work when I started to not trust myself. I’m sure you can gather what I mean by that. I had let my depression get so bad and ignore my options of help for weeks. I didn’t think I could make it to work. Thoughts of leaving family and Nicholas and them being sad flashed through my head and I couldn’t bare my plans of killing myself anymore. I texted a friend and asked for help and sat with my boyfriend waiting for my parents to come to my house.

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