It's with me every day

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Last spring I attempted suicide. Sort of. After two years of general depression and four months of severe depression I found myself staring at my own eyes in the bathrooom mirror for what seemed like forever, franticly searching for a reason to drop the knive. At the last minute, I pictured my counselor of three months waiting in her office the next morning, wondering where I was. I dropped the razor blade, hung up the towl that I planned on dying on, and crawled into bed in a state of stupor. I feel kind of like a wimp, in a twisted way. I saw her the next day and she suggested hospitalization before I even told her about the previous night. I spent the next week in a hospital's metal clinic. It did absolutly nothing for me. The counselors where all stupid redneck volunteers and the staffed pyscologist was an asshole. I hope others found hospitals more beneficial than I did. I had to withrdraw from school that semester and go back home to live with my parents, which did not help. The psycologist I saw over the next summer(this past summer) helped a little bit, but pretty much I've been on my own.
Every life has it's highs and lows. And not everybody's lows are the same. Your lows may be worse than mine, mine may be worse than yours. Sometimes it's the luck of the draw, but sometimes it depends entirely on you. My brother tried committing suicide, and since then we've all worked together to try and help him through his ordeal as best we could, but a lot of it depended on him as well.

You've always got to think about how satisfied you are at your current point in life, and then you seperate the things that are beyond your control from those that are in your grasp. In my brother's case, a lot of his questions he found out were things he could work on improving himself. He once told me he wasn't satisfied with what he's done in his life, but he began to notice things...small things that perhaps he never noticed before.

I can't help but remember what my uncle told him (his wife, my aunt had committed suicide years ago). I'll paraphrase what my uncle told him, "When you wake up in the morning, no matter who you are, you have a reason to live. Some might not know what it is yet. And others only think they know what it is, and that since they can't fulfill their reason, they give up. The truth is, if you think your reason is lost, than it was never your reason to live in the first place. You've got to look deeper."

And I think those words might have saved his life. My brother, a man who once defined his life by his achievements at his workplace, found something more self gratifying and prideful when he began taking care of his girlfriends autistic niece (who's her adopted daughter because the mother, her sister, died).

She's now the joy in his life, and one of his many and most precious reasons to live.

We all have some sort of reason. It's just that some of us aren't looking in the right direction, and others haven't found theirs yet.

Don't try fighting for your right to die my friend, try fighting for your reason to live. It's much more rewarding in the long run.


SF Friend
Staff Alumni
Wise words indeed, Chicago.:smile: (city of my birth, btw) I particularly like what your uncle said about 'if you think your reason (to live) is lost then it wasn't your reason at all, you've got to look deeper'. I too am constantly looking for my reason to live.:unsure: Sometimes it's my kids, sometimes my animals - the strays I care for - sometimes it's just my insatiable curiosity: I stick around to see what happens next. Whatever it is, I still get up every morning and start over. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us.:smile: It gave me something more to think about.:smile:

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