I've read over and over again about everyone whose family members would be hurt by their suicide. Does anyone have a family that wouldn't care?
Well, mine wouldn't, and that's not just a dramatic statement. When I was 19, I took an overdose that nearly killed me. I was in ICU for two days. I was then in a psych ward for two months. No one came to visit me, no one even sent a card -- even though my nearest relative was 15-20 minutes away. Even my psychiatrist only came to see me once, claiming she couldn't see me, even though she lived only 2 towns away.
And, the way I was raised, I thought nothing of this. It never occurred to me that someone should care when I almost died.
So I spent two months in a hell of a psych ward, with miserable, stupid, dishonest, lazy psych nurses and attendants. They treated me horribly. Even the patients asked why they treated me so badly.
Here I was, severely depressed, extremely vulnerable.
That was 25 years ago, and I bitterly regret to this day taking myself to the hospital back then. Even then, at 19, I was a battered old soul, and there has been not one pleasant experience in my life since then. Just a lot of money wasted on worthless medications and doctors.
Looking back, if there were ever universal messages that no one wanted me alive, it was then.
Well, mine wouldn't, and that's not just a dramatic statement. When I was 19, I took an overdose that nearly killed me. I was in ICU for two days. I was then in a psych ward for two months. No one came to visit me, no one even sent a card -- even though my nearest relative was 15-20 minutes away. Even my psychiatrist only came to see me once, claiming she couldn't see me, even though she lived only 2 towns away.
And, the way I was raised, I thought nothing of this. It never occurred to me that someone should care when I almost died.
So I spent two months in a hell of a psych ward, with miserable, stupid, dishonest, lazy psych nurses and attendants. They treated me horribly. Even the patients asked why they treated me so badly.
Here I was, severely depressed, extremely vulnerable.
That was 25 years ago, and I bitterly regret to this day taking myself to the hospital back then. Even then, at 19, I was a battered old soul, and there has been not one pleasant experience in my life since then. Just a lot of money wasted on worthless medications and doctors.
Looking back, if there were ever universal messages that no one wanted me alive, it was then.