My dad killed himself when I was five. I still can't let him go | Suicide rates | The GuardianMy father killed himself, and I have a message for you. My father killed himself, and I have a message for you. I'm sorry if this isn't appropriate for this sub. I'm really not sure where else I'd go. (I'm sorry, on the phone) 18 years ago, my father committed suicide at the age of 46. Although we knew that depression ran in his family (his own mother committed suicide when he was a child), he did not exhibit signs of depression, or expressed suicidal thoughts. Never. We had a happy life. He and my mother had been together since they were teenagers, and they were truly happy. I had what it looked like, everything to live for. However, on the evening of February 23, 2001, my father left a note on our porch on the screen, telling my mother not to go out and hung in the shed behind our house. I have read many messages and comments here from those who suffer and contemplate taking their own life. For what it's worth, and it may not be worth much, but that voice - the one that's telling you it's for the best, and your loved ones are better? That the pain is too much to continue? That you're a burden for those around you? It's not true. I'm not dismissing your feelings, I'm not. I just want you to know, like a person on the other side of suicide, that voice is wrong. It can be situational—an episode in your life that seems hopeless. Or maybe you've suffered with depression and these thoughts for years, and you just want it to stop. So you make the decision. You plan, and you're finally at peace because you know the end is close. That's a part people don't understand. How can someone go over their lives like everything's okay? They were happy! It doesn't make sense!" "They finally seemed to be fine" But think about it. When you have what seems to be an impossible problem, how do you feel and act when you finally find a solution? You feel relieved. Easy. Sometimes even euphoric. I can only imagine the pain my father was going through to have chosen to leave us in such a way. But the days before his death, he seemed so happy. On the day, he and my mother went to lunch, talked about plans to move south to be closer to my sister and me, and they even talked about plans that night for dinner with friends. He was 22 when he died. She was so angry right after. We were all. How could a man with so much to live, who had such a wonderful life, choose to commit suicide? We were totally blind, and we thought how selfish and deplorable he did. It was so bad. Since then, after the investigation, talking to suicidal survivors, and those who have lost loved ones, besides suffering from my own depression, now I know it is not selfish. For the sufferer, it's selfless. The Sufferers are fully convinced that their absence from this earth will be a relief to those who love them. One load less. The feelings are real, and they are persistent. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. I guess I'm talking to both sides. If you've lost someone to kill yourself, try not to be angry. It'll be hard, trust me, I know. But after 18 years, I'm not angry. I'm so fucking sad. Sad who had to suffer in silence. Sad who will never meet his grandchildren, or see what my sister had accomplished. Sad that my mother still cries for him and misses him every day. Sad I can't get your advice or hear your cheesy jokes when I'm down. I'm writing this to you. You're loved. It's worth it. You'll miss a lot. This pain is real. But it doesn't have to be permanent. Reach. Talk. Share. No shame. The voices are temporary. They can be silenced, and there's help. Edit: I'm reading each of your comments. I am overwhelmed, and so grateful to those of you who shared your own suffering, and those with loved ones lost to suicide. You're stronger than you know. If any of you need to speak, do not hesitate to send me a message:) Thank you for the silver and gold:) very appreciated. Five years ago I was closer than someone I know could have imagined committing suicide. No one will understand it until they have those thoughts or talk to people who think about it. I have a tattoo in memory of that day. It's a tattoo that explains how close I was to death and how far I've grown. I think it's a choice as I chose not to. But it's one of the most difficult options to face. One of the most difficult and difficult choices to have to not go through with her when all you want is emotional suffering to end. There is always hope, at that time of my life I would never have imagined that my life would be what it is today and I would be who I am today and many of the things that concern me before are no longer in my mind. It's hard to see when there's no light, but we have to choose to find that light, we really do. It's not easy, but I live now so I can tell people that suicide is not the answer. Thank you for sharing, all the luck you suffer with this. Mine was eight years ago from this month. I went to bed and while I was lying, I decided it was time and I was ready to die. All the insecure ones I had in place (you will break your mother's heart, you will leave a mess, you don't know if they will play your favorite music wherever you go) were defeated effortlessly. I didn't care about anything. I was gonna die. I knew if I had the strength to sit down, I wouldn't survive the night. I knew it with absolute certainty. I couldn't move. All the strength left my body and I couldn't move any of my limbs. I couldn't even turn on my side (my usual sleeping position). I stood still and wept on the roof, tears collecting in my ears, unable to even clean my face because it was completely paralyzed. I cried and stood still for probably two or three hours, possibly less, and finally the exhaustion took over and fell asleep. I woke up a few hours later, still on my back, in the same exact position I had been sitting on the night before. The only difference was that the sun was beginning to appear and was much lighter in my room. The sun that came up saved me. I knew my mother was awake and having breakfast/coffee before going to work. I needed to tell you how close I came, quickly, before it was too late and I didn't get any help. I was afraid the sun would come back and lose my last and only chance. I had to get help and I had to do it right. Now. Mom was always calm, the one that handled the emergencies better. I told him I'd almost kill myself the night before and nodded and came to work. She spoke to my father (who always loses his head when his children are in crisis) and he also had to work. Mental health crisis line, telephone counselors who established meetings with therapists in the city, visits by the doctor. The food brought me in my room because I had a bad cold that I had been crying for weeks and a stomach bug that would make me vomit almost every time I sneezed. They were my champions, just as I knew they would be... but I only knew it once the sun came up. When I was in the dark, the only thing that saved me was not being able to sit down. I read in one of my psychiatric textbooks a story of a woman who, due to insomnia and stress, wanted to strangle her newborn baby. When she thought about it (or maybe even when she went to do it), her arms suddenly became very weak and pain and she struggled even to raise the little child. I don't remember what the phenomenon is called, but I remember deciding that's what happened to me. It is probably something to do with the "brain of cherry" to realize that its survival was in danger and reacts in an interesting and unconscious way. I don't know if it's a real phenomenon (I don't think it's well documented so of course it makes it a little suspicious), but it's one of the things in my life that makes things a little more sense to me, so I keep it. I'm so glad you're here with us. I mean, thank you for sharing, with tears in my eyes I wake up almost every morning in ways to finish it. And the best that everyone will be. But I move not to. Sometimes I just honestly want the pain to stop or the vacuum to be filled. Support is what we all need. I am grateful that I am very open with my emotions and have an important support from my bf, family and friends. Even my lol pets How do you choose such a thing when you are convinced that light is just a trick of the eye? How will you convince yourself it's worth it? For me, it seems that even the happiest people have a life of shit most of the time, and are trying their most daring to pretend that life is peachy... when in reality, we live in a giant flying rock home to what can be the most brutal death party of the universe and there is no meaning for anything except for the illusion of created meaning This is so fucking beautiful and important. Thank you. Thank you. This post made me cry. As someone who was really close to making a suicide plan, I'm glad to read this. The same here... has been having these thoughts too often lately and has also been planning how to do it too, but after reading this post I will try to find help. I hope this helps other people like you did with me. I remember seeing a woman on television whose husband had committed suicide. In addition to the trauma itself, he talked about all the things he had left to do to cancel the cards and deal with the taxes. He said he suddenly had all these decisions and additional jobs to do. He said it was so hard to have to "prove" all these companies that his husband was dead. She had not been aware if her suicidal thoughts. I think his point was about all the "extra" things that go along with a suicide. She wonders if her husband would have done so if she had known or thought of everything she and she just had to deal with. I felt so sorry for her as I had never thought of the end of the 'business' to have to deal with those bullying things when I tried to handle their young children during the worst days of their lives. He just screamed his eyes and begged anyone who was thinking about suicide to get help. He was so strong in everything he had to handle. I've never forgotten that interview. Yes, my father killed himself, too, in front of me, although he did not know that he was at the top of the basement stairs. My mother, a stay at home mom had never written a check before her death. She was so overwhelmed by the experience she just closed. She never recovered and died probably long before what she would have if she hadn't committed suicide. I don't blame him how he knew? She's destroyed almost all my life, I felt incredible guilt at first, my mother was institutionalized when I was sixteen years after her death, I went homeless in high school and I took years to get out of it, then I went to some very abusive behaviors. I think the common theme is that I always wondered if I could have saved it. I honestly think it was an impulsive action on your part. I'm not sure if I'd done it if the gun wasn't there but obviously I can't prove that, it's just my suspicion.Thanks for sharing this I just saved this post so I can read it again in the future as long as I feel really under my heart it's going to your friend Mee too.I'm crying real tears right now because today I decided to start writing my notes again. Things have been getting worse for months and I'm so sick of it. I'd been crying and begging for a sign so I wouldn't start planning and I guess this is it. Thank you. This is the sign! I wish I could embrace you... Please address your loved ones (or really anyone) and tell them you are suffering. You deserve to feel happiness and deserve to feel loved and deserve to be guided and helped through this fucked-up journey. You're so good and I'm glad you found this post now. Save it if you think it will help you in other times of suffering, read it when you need to be reminded that you are worth much more than you think. I know I'm an Internet stranger, but if you ever need to talk, feel free for PMme. Hold on there I feel about your father and I liked reading this post. Life can be so confusing and hard. Thanks for reminding me I'm worth it. I'm literally crying MembersOnline
My father killed himself when he was five. I still can't let him go Suicide is the main cause of death for men under 45. I can only hope that speaking of my experiences will help more men live to see another day. Last modified on Wednesday 20 Sep 2017 19.25 BST This month, it is 25 years since the last time I saw my father. With a cold shock, I realize it means he's been absent five times more than I knew him. He was five years old when he took his own life. For many people, the passage of time relieves much of the pain, and makes it easier to move forward. For me, in many ways it gets worse. Losing a father at five meant he didn't understand death, or why my father wouldn't come home from work anymore. I didn't even know it was until I was 10 years old. My father's death has left me with decades of unresolved questions, new realizations and new situations to face without a father. Even so far away from the day he died, I am still finding new things about him to add to the little trove of memories that jealously hoarded, I am not sure if I really remember them or invented them from what they told me. Five years is not time to meet someone. I wish I could take those days – when I was too young to notice the arguments between him and my mother, the growing labor stress, he stirring us when we were being children – and extended them throughout the rest of my life. Couldn't I change the day he kept me like a baby for my graduation, so I could see myself complete the education he worked so hard to pay for? Couldn't change the time we played with prisms for my wedding day, so I'd have it next to me when I walk down the hallway? I wonder if I really knew what I was doing that day. Did you realize your death would haunt me? How would he bear the weight of him with me every day, wondering why he did it, trying to figure out the few words stained with tears in the inappropriate note he left, wondering if there is any reason in the world good enough to leave your two young daughters without a father? Did you realize that I would spend my life listening to your favorite songs, watching his existing video to remember his voice, crying on Father's Day or on his birthday or any random day, because suddenly he hit me again that he would never come back? Could you stop him? It's been a quarter of a century and I can't let my father go. Three years ago, I furiously campaigned against an announcement that made light of the way he died, and I removed him. I spent that weekend saving a loss that felt fresh again, reading the horrible comments about the news articles and emails that people sent me. I never loved you. He was selfish. He committed suicide because he was ashamed of you. Almost worse are the people who say I'd be so proud of me. How could they know? None of us know. I'll never know what I'd think of me, and it kills me. Every day, the world changes a little more than I knew, and it moves further away from me. Everyone expects me to move, because it happened a long time ago – before my partner was born. But they don't know how it feels to look at the same few photographs knowing there will never be more. They don't know how strange it feels to think that I once had two parents. They don't know what it's like to apologize to her therapist because you made her cry. If I let him go, he's gone forever, and I can't stand it. The effect of suicide is not just the loss of the person who left you behind. It's the shadow always on your heel. The way every time something bad happens or you feel hopeless, you automatically think about suicide – and sometimes it's a close call. A few months ago an anonymous account tweeted to me, "Here's the hope of 2016 is the year that Holly continues in his father's footsteps" and I thought "You don't know how close I came." But even though I don't know much about my father, I know that's not what he would want for me. It's not what I want for the people I would leave behind, either – he might not have known what he is, but I do. I couldn't put anyone through this. Twenty-five years later, suicide is still the main cause of death for . Every day, men who feel that my father did it, try to look strong, and take them further to despair. Every day, 13 of them take their lives, leaving people like me lost and longing for their children, husbands, brothers, parents. And every day I wish I could change what happened. For my father, the sun will never come out again. But the more we talk about it, the more we hear, the more men will live to see another day, and the more shadows will fade. In the UK, Samaritans can be contacted with 116 123. In the United States, the national emergency suicide prevention hotline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the Lifeline Crisis Support Service is 13 11 14. Telephone lines in other countries can be found comments (0)comments (0)

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