Trigger Warning: Mentions of suicide and high, probably controversial, opinions in this post *due to a death by suicide*
I was reading over a blog post I found through the mental health hashtag going on and now I’m just livid. I can’t freakin help it. I’m pissed off. I am mad, I am at a loss. It just cuts too deeply.
One of the founders (I would do more research but don’t have the time at the moment) of the Project Semicolon which is about suicide prevention and mental health awareness, essentially, died by suicide themselves a couple months ago.
I just, I don’t understand.
Did they reach out for help? Did they NOT? How can you possibly, knowingly, promote suicide PREVENTION and then die by the same thing?
The two just don’t work together. They negate each other. It makes no sense to me!
Like, what the fuck were you thinking? You weren’t. You fucking died. Another suicide on the listed statistics of suicides. When is this going to stop? How many people have to die before shit changes around here? Around ANY PLACE?
I just… feel too many things. I know to be compassionate and kind on the one hand. They went through some tragic trauma and utter bullshit in their lifetime… But do I think that gives them a reason, a sound reason, to have killed themselves?
What about the people left that you could have helped? What about the people you left behind? You continued the chain of suicide. You were supposed to break it! Not finish it off by ending yourself.
You can’t have both things. I cling to this. Because if you could, I’d probably be out the door myself. But I believe you can’t do both.
I can’t promote suicide prevention AND die by suicide myself. Because obviously I didn’t get help. And how can I promote OTHER PEOPLE getting help when I don’t myself?
My responsibility is MYSELF FIRST-NO MATTER WHAT, NO MATTER WHO. If I need help, I do my coping strategies. Or I do nothing, either way, I am not following through on my thoughts, and that inevitably keeps me safe.
Yes, I make mistakes too. It sucks to think this may have been one of theirs. But someday you’re going to get it “right”. Someday if you keep playing with death, death will win. We’re all going to die anyway, why hasten the process?
Anybody can die by suicide. ANYBODY. It takes more strength to choose to live.
Harm reduction is a thing though too.
And I believe it’s a choice. It’s always a choice. It’s a hard choice, to live, to die, but it’s a choice. And I know at least for myself, that I control my actions. I can take responsibility and accountability for when I do or do not act in line with my values.
Suicide isn’t brave. Suicide isn’t weakness. Suicide is a terribly tragic choice made when a person shouldn’t have made such a life-threatening decision. Suicide is when our demons outweigh our coping strategies.
Suicide is pain. For everyone involved. I ache for this person, even though I didn’t know them. I feel betrayed by their actions. I thought we were on the same team. I guess I was wrong.
Suicide ends a life and destroys a legacy.
I don’t believe you can have both. I have to believe that you can’t have both. I fear what backlash this may create–not for me, but for this person. If any. I would imagine there’d be backlash though. Others just…giving in. Letting go. Saying goodbye.
It still makes me mad though. Why didn’t you get help? I know why but still, why? It didn’t have to end like this. You needed HELP. Someone could have absolutely provided that. Suicide is often preventable. You wait a DAY an HOUR a week a month a SECOND before you follow through. You’re supposed to SUCK AT IT. So that you freakin live. Because living matters. Because inspiring other people to LIVE matters. Because you’re not supposed to have both. You can’t.
This reminds me of an article I once found where a gay therapist wrote a book about surviving through being gay and the backlash that comes from that, and he died by suicide, before his book could come out. And people who were treated by him had to come to the belief that maybe he couldn’t live anymore, maybe his fight had ended, and that it didn’t erase what help he had provided for them before.
I used to believe in that.
I don’t think I do anymore.
This reminds me of the social worker who first spoke to me in my last hospitalization. She told me about all sorts of people and how they died too, by suicide and the methods that they used.
She only remembered them by the way in which they died. Maybe she knew more, but confidentiality and all that jazz prevented more from being said…
But it hit me, you know. Because their legacy and who they WERE didn’t matter. All that there was to them was their death. Their legacy was erased.
You just can’t have both.
“Remember the legacy” is what keeps me going. Because I can’t have both. I don’t WANT both. I can’t be an advocate and promote wellness while also acting against my wellness. Not to the extreme of suicide. Not anymore.
Because it doesn’t matter what you were or what you did, it’s how you died. And that’s how people remember you.
I’m left with a conflicting feeling. To relate, and to be mad. To wonder how and to never know why. To be repulsed and to be in disbelief. To be confused and out of time.
If things change, which they do-they always do, I’ll make an update tomorrow. Now, I have to go to the OCD support group tonight.
Take care, my friends.
If YOU need help, please, please reach out for it. It’s always there. And I’m here, too.