History of Suicide and What Depths I’ve Fallen.

I want to start this blog with a note that this is a thought provoking and sensitive topic. I’ve got a history of suicide and suicidal thoughts and struggled rarely with such. So I do warn to my reading audience what this has within it. And I’m going to begin with what made me realize how far I’ve fallen in my depression.

Here is how far I’ve gone.

What I’ve linked above is my note on Suicide Project. A website that gives any and all folk a means to write their thoughts and even an open website to write a suicide note. As disclaimed, this website was made as not only a suicide awareness website, but also something that holds no voice against the depressed or suicidal mind. I made a post after one late December night where I needed to write something. And unfortunately  I wrote it in the most self pitying way. But it helped me release my thoughts, which in a way inspired me to blog abut it.

“The Suicide Project is a website devoted to allowing people to share their stories of desperation and depression… and ultimately of hope. We hope that by allowing people to share their stories of despair with one another, they can find a reason to live, a reason to survive another minute. Another hour. Another day.

This is not a place to share suicide methods.

This is not a place to find a suicide partner.

This is not a place to preach the gospel.

This is not a place to post random stuff on random topics.

This is not a place to spout hate. Or to create drama with other members. Or to login with multiple accounts pretending to be different people.”

That late December night, I needed something to write. I felt so down and wanted to talk. Needed to say something. When I stumbled upon the Suicide Project. I was able to post my story. I was able to get some people to read my story. While it was not a suicide note, I was also certainly saddened that I had nothing good to say in that note. I felt the need to complain about my position and where I stood. How my self esteem was falling apart because of my living conditions.

In no ways do I aim to compare scars. As another person in my position could easily handle this better than I did. In truth, we all handle situations differently. At this time of my life, I was slowly getting worse. And it was this website that gave me an extra edge to push forward. I got people to read and sympathize, and empathize with me. I didn’t feel alone in my struggle. I even admitted the first time to attempting suicide here noted in the link above.

I don’t recommend you just use anonymous websites to vent your frustrations. As I grasped at anything just to speak. But it certainly helped me and even had me break down in front of my family about the issues I’ve faced and how my isolation of myself became self destructive. I want people to understand again, this isn’t to compare scars since we all handle situations differently.

In the past, I used to have a structured lifestyle. I figured this out when I began counseling earlier this year with my mother along side me. In Junior High, and High School. I had a lot of order in my life. I went to a Christian Church, Had an amazing Youth Group, and had my entire family pushing me to graduation. I had so much keeping me proactive and involved. This placed so much value in me that I didn’t realize it. I was happy as a child growing up.

But after graduation, all of that fell apart. I graduated not only school, but the youth group that did so much from fundraisers, to church plays. We even made silly music videos for christmas and mother’s day. I’d post them if I wouldn’t get a copyright claim immediately afterwards. By the time I was eighteen, I was put into a whole other world I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t have the order I became so used too.

I began working in Telepreformance shortly after graduating. Working as a Call Center Representative, I worked for Verizon and Xbox within that year. I didn’t get the working environment and met new folk that I never would imagine being with. Some people I worked with may have also reinforced the suicidal tendencies I’ve come across before.

A man named Marty was a Co-worker of mine. Both in the same training class, and worked till the Verizon segment was removed from our location. He had some pretty depressing views. He also was quite vigilant on the idea of drinking and later killing himself before he was thirty years old. Which at the time, he was twenty-five. I’ve never had anyone talk or even propose the idea. He was such a talented man too. He built computers, ran networks, and just had a great act for programming. As well as shared similar interests in gaming as well.

While we only worked together for six months, this man left quite a sad impression on me. And at that time, frightened me as well. He left a depressing note with me and did impact me. He was hell bent on the idea of living half his life before drinking it away. Giving the idea to a naive, eighteen year old adult like myself that the world is hopeless twelve years down the road for me. While he wasn’t a huge part in my depression now. I got this idea from him that would later become a vicious thought in the back of my mind.

Shortly after leaving Telepreformance before completing my year there, I didn’t have anything planned. Not only by the time I was nineteen, I have accepted personally I was bisexual. My church became so huge on the topic of homosexuality in their sermons, which at the time here in Utah legalized gay marriage. This began hurting me mentally that I was attracted to the same thing my church condones. Being a natural skeptic too, I began drifting away from the church. My attendance even today is still hinged upon my best friends from that church.

Unemployed, feeling ashamed of my sexual tastes, and now feeling the impact of my current position weigh upon me at home with my family. I began feeling worse and worse about myself. I can’t pay rent. I can’t feel welcome at the church when the sexuality I claim is considered the worst thing to happen in Utah. My self esteem began to deteriorate. I didn’t want to place myself in a position that didn’t help me at all. Which at this time, I was already questioning the bible’s integrity and passages.

Now, I don’t intend this blog post to be about my faith. that will be saved for a future segment when I dive into my past with this church and why I believe I’m not longer Christian, but a Deist in truth.

I have yet to disclose my bisexuality to anyone but my family, and two of my close friends. My church had yet to know of this. So I still keep that veil up and slowed my attendance now about here. My mind was just wallowing in self pity. I really didn’t know what to do or who to approach about my situation. I had a lot o negative reinforcement about my position. My mother and my step-father had nothing good to say about me lacking a job. Which only dug deeper into my already fragile mind at the time.

About around November is when I’ve attempted suicide for the first time. In the past, I’ve researched how to commit suicide. what overdoses did, what gunpoint can do. I found my parents’ 9mm in their room. And took it to my head. This attempt failed because of my lack of experience with guns. The safety literally saved my life. I never handled a gun alone before. I’ve gone camping and shot guns before. but not once has anyone let me hold any sort of gun alone.

My ignorance and lack of gun knowledge saved me from my first attempt. when I snapped back to reality about what I tried to do. I ran off, took my car and drove for hours. Bawling my eyes out because I couldn’t believe what I tried to do. Even today it makes me choke up for what I’ve done. But that wasn’t enough to motivate me to seek a solution to my mind.

Fast forward to January of 2015. I have my first mental breakdown. I face my parents where they yell at me with my lack of job and how I was doing nothing in the home. If I had a mind to care for at the time, I would have explained about all of this much sooner to them. But I felt guilt and shame, and knew how they’d react if I told them what I tried. I was so sick of being yelled at, and feeling so worthless. I decided to just leave.

I left on a sour note with my older brother. I told him he could have the car because I was out to commit suicide. He tried to halt me, and my mind had me bent on trying again. First on choking myself out on his arm that he held me back with. But then was convinced it was best to let me go. This was a cold January night. Likely -10 degrees by this time. I had only pajama pants and a thin coat on. I walked for hours on end. I couldn’t feel my arms or feet.

I don’t know where I walked. I was crying, and just venting. At this time, my family called the police and reported me as an endangered adult. Reaching out to any and all my friends and contacts who would know where I’d be. Which nobody knew where. I hate to say that I attempted to freeze myself to death at this time. I didn’t care and left on an impulse.

When I finally vented my mind, I didn’t go home. but rather I went back to my best friend’s house. I relayed all the things I’ve gone through and what I did to him. I never gave him  a chance to hold me accountable for the issues I’ve gone through. At least till now. I felt so ashamed, embarrassed, and guilty for what I did. For the pain I put my family through when I ran off into a freezing night. What was worse, how would I talk to my mom and step-father about it. How I dreaded speaking to either one of them.

My mom held an angry position about the situation. She was shocked, insulted, and didn’t want to believe I’d do anything like that. Not once in the family’s lifetime has anyone made the notion that suicide was the answer. but I went against that. she truly felt remorseful when she realized that the house felt nothing but negative towards my position and was even more sorry for not trying to understand my position but justifiably expressed her anger.

I owe her for the counseling I attend today. I owe her, and my step-father who convinced me to seek help. It took a mental breakdown to show the pain I was going through and even revealed to me how bad of a position I was in. Where I was readily eager to end my life. But also shows what values I still had to continue living. when I snap back to reality and feel ashamed for what I tried.

I want to end this blog on a message to my audience. From what you can read above, I have a severe issue of bottling my emotions. As a male in America, that is unfortunately the norm. To express these emotions is seen as weakness. My lack of social skills and as well as my position made me hurt. I could have easily fixed this situation if I came clean about my suicidal thoughts the moment I had them. But I bottled it down. I didn’t intend to burden anyone with such painful thoughts. I didn’t want people to feel half as worthless as I did at the time.

I highly want to encourage people to talk about their issues. Do not fear social normality. Or don’t be held to an invisible standard. If you have an issue, you need to speak about it. Mental health is such a fragile thing and the only way to fix our issues is to talk about them. To make our issues aware to others to find a way to treat or even fix them.

I thank you all deeply for taking the time to read all the way through this post. It’s quite extensive for my second post on this blog. I want to get my history out of the way to show where I’ve come from and what has led me to make this blog. I also hope it will aid anyone who comes across this and relates to it. If you feel or know anyone who is going through the same way. I would love to have this shared to them.

Thank you for reading ThoughtBlots and have a pleasant time.


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