Tonight as I was scrolling through Facebook, I came across a story on our local news of a police officer who committed suicide. My first feeling is that of empathy. I know what it feels like to want it to end. Not sympathy; I feel his pain, sadness, and hopelessness deep inside. I don’t feel sorry for him. I understand why he did what he did, as horrible as it is. As sad and confusing and devastating as it is.
The very first Facebook comment reads “Thank you for your service! I am so sorry you felt there was no way out 😦 May you always rest in Paradise”
This is a huge misunderstanding of suicide. Or at least for me it is. I don’t feel like there isn’t another “way out”. I feel like there are plenty of ways out but none are worth trying for. Or I’ve tried so hard and for so long that I just don’t WANT to try anymore. I want relief. I want a quick end to my suffering. When the drugs aren’t working and your “happy thoughts” fall flat and mean nothing to your messed up brain, you just want sweet relief. Suicide is selfish. You truly are thinking about yourself only. But you know what? Sometimes it’s nearly impossible to think of anyone else BUT yourself. Your brain gets so stuck on this empty, blank slate that is somehow also so full and overwhelming.
Yes, there are many “ways out”.
Call the suicide hotline. When? On my lunch break from work? Hiding from my husband in my room? Do I take a drive to have some privacy? I don’t even have anything to say.
Seek medical attention. Uh, have you tried making an appointment with a doctor recently? When the next appointment is in three weeks, what are you supposed to do? If you’ve changed your meds or started new meds, the doctor tells you there will be an “adjustment period” that’s totally normal and you might feel worse before you feel better. Soo how long is this adjustment period normal?
Talk to a friend or loved one. It’s hard to explain to someone how you are feeling when they have no experience that is the same. I was a disbeliever too. Just buck up. It’s not that bad. Meds are for fakers. Blah blah blah. Now I know. I know you can’t help it. But the comforting words from friends and family don’t help. Sorry friends and family – I wish I knew what you could say too.
Exercise more (my favorite)! Oh yes. Because as if dragging myself out of bed, getting ready, going to work, acting “fine” all day, talking to people, coming home and doing housework isn’t enough, I need to dig down deep and find the energy to workout. Right.
The fact is that sometimes, after so long of feeling so bad when you KNOW you should feel better, after so much faking it, after so many silent tears and numb emotions, you want relief. You want peace. No, of course suicide is not the answer. But we also know that it’s not a “way out”.
Linsey 