Suicide

I came across this on a Los Angeles Times blog entry by Shari Roan.

About 32,000 U.S. adults kill themselves each year. But millions more think about suicide or even make plans to kill themselves, according to a new national survey. The 2008 survey found that an estimated 8.3 million people ages 18 and older -- 3.7% of the adult population -- had serious thoughts of suicide in the previous year.

I used to have suicidal thoughts, but that was mostly when I was under 18. I never actually made plans to kill myself. I was an emotional kid, full of passion, and it was easy for other kids to get a rise out of me or tears by picking on me. The nature of where I lived meant dealing with the same jerks throughout most of my childhood, and they would gladly use something embarrassing from years back to nastily hound me. If I got into a fight instead of just letting myself be teased or literally pushed around, I would get in trouble for fighting. I can remember my father getting called in to school because I bit another kid in the arm. The thing is, I bit his arm because he had it wrapped around my mouth from behind. I begged my parents to let me transfer elementary schools. They declined, saying I would have the same problems. As it turns out, my school got shut down and I spent a year at that other school (along with some of the other students from my old school). Even with some those other students, my problems lessened. Maybe I matured, but I doubt that was it. Unfortunately, everyone was back together the next year as there was only one junior high school, and so there were hell to deal with.

I also hated things like my voice. I was very self-conscious about it. If my father told me to (usually in more polite words) to shut up, I was convinced it wasn’t because I was speaking out of turn, but because he hated my voice. Looking back, he never actually gave me any indication that he didn’t like my voice, and it probably didn’t bother him at all. Ironically, as an adult, people compliment me on my voice all of the time. It has changed a lot, of course. I remember uh… actress… Denise Richards saying she was teased for her odd looks as a young teenager, and the irony was that later, when she grew up a little, she was considered beautiful. It is kind of like that with my voice. I got picked on for my hair, too, but like my voice, my hair turned out to be one of my best features.

There was also the sudden loss of my best-friend-from-birth when we were barely eleven years old. He was killed in an accident.

It didn't help that I paid attention to the news, and between some of the crap they fed to us in public school and the alarmist doom-and-gloom news, it seemed like life was hell and was only going to get worse. The air and water pollution were going to kill us if AIDS didn't. There may have also been some inherited biological depression - I never bothered to seek a diagnosis.

I look back and see that in general, I had a very good childhood. But kids don't have perspective. So there were times I felt like it would be better if I killed myself.

Thankfully, I was still young when I decided that life was too short as it was. Then, in my late teens, I picked up a hobby and a related job far enough away from where I grew up that I was essentially getting a blank slate. People would see me for who I was then, not the seven-year-old or eleven-year-old kid I once was. It was a tremendous help. I get plenty of respect and compliments in my professional life and my hobby life. I still have trouble accepting compliments from anyone other than my wife. My mother, generally a great mother, somehow gave me the idea that anyone outside of the family who complimented me was doing it for some ulterior motive. Old notions can have a hard time dying.

Something else that helped was that I discovered that my life doesn't belong to me. It took years for the full understanding of that to sink it, but it helped to at least know from the start that God didn't want me to kill myself.

It has been many years since I've had a suicidal thought. I do believe that there is almost always hope to improve whatever situation one is in. I would implore almost anyone that suicide is not the solution. I write almost because it could very well be better for the rest of us if a murderer, rapist, or child abuser who can't seem to stop such behaviors took themselves out of the picture. For everyone else - there are people around to help. There are solutions to problems. Life can improve. Just find help.

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline coordinates a network of 140 crisis centers around the country to provide help at any time of the day or night.

Here's their number: 1-800-273-TALK