Suicide: the easy way out for some, means tears and pain for others
Some people who commit suicide are worthless and selfish people. Others have mental problems. Our society excuses those who have mental problems, and rightly so. They don’t inflict their own pain. They inflict pain on their innocent family and the friends they leave behind, the ones they are capable of selflessly caring and loving. Nobody deserves so much bread.
I apologize to some of my readers who I have offended by making the claim that suicidal people are thoughtless and selfish. I can’t help but believe my own statements. After all, this is just my opinion. I realize that people with mental problems find in suicide the only way out of their problems. I understand and agree with that. It is not my intention to hurt anyone with this article. Some suicides, I agree, have unknown merits that we as a society do not understand. Being so desperate to kill yourself is sometimes hard to understand.
We all might have said this at one time or another, I’m going to commit suicide,” gold Might as well be dead, no one will care. We all may have thought about it at one point or another. I admit that I have said it and contemplated it.
I think my two older brothers had sacrificed themselves for me, in a morbid way. Each one committed suicide in a way that saved me. His methods were different, but the meaning was the same. The weaknesses of my brothers are my strength.
My older brother, Donald, put the revolver in his mouth and blew it up. I was the unlucky one to discover his violent outing. After this traumatic incident, I never thought about suicide again. This was his sacrifice for me.
I think if antidepressants had been available then, in the early to mid 1970s, as they are widely used today, he might have been saved. He was amazed at what Valium He did to calm his nerves. Yew Wellbutrin or were prescribed other antidepressants back then, it may have lifted you out of depression, as it has with me.
There are many antidepressant medications on the market today that work wonders. This requires a visit to the doctor and a prescription. Some of these wonder drugs are, Wellbutrine, Celexa, Prozac, Paxil, Zoloft, Effexor, and Serzone. These medications are the alternative to depression. It is surely worth a try to help prevent a deadly option of suicide.
My second oldest brother, Mark, committed suicide in a way that took him years to accomplish: he drank himself to death. His years of alcohol abuse kept me in check most of the time. After experiencing his deteriorating health with cirrhosis of the liver and eventually death, I finally made the decision to stop drinking because I was going down the same path he had been traveling for years. This was his sacrifice for me.
No matter how horrible, cruel and scary the world seems at times, it should never be a reason to eliminate yourself. For some, this is cowardly. It doesn’t take courage to commit suicide, just selfish determination. Its survivors were not allowed any alternative or consideration, only guilt, grievance, and pain.
Through the years, I have had friends who have committed suicide. Take, for example, my old friend, Rick, who overdosed on morphine. His obituary said it was an accidental overdose. I understand that if you mess with a killer drug, like morphine, you should expect to die. I wouldn’t call morphine a recreational drug. I wouldn’t call Rick’s death an accidental overdose, rather than… a suicide.
I felt really lost for a long time after Rick died. I can only imagine what his family had to go through. It was my first experience of someone close to me dying like this, so mysteriously. We went to school together, we started out drinking together, doing drugs, sneaking out of his parents’ car, and chasing girls.
Due to the nature of his death, a suicide, his family and friends were left with questions and guilt, along with grievances. He left his young wife and his little daughter behind to suffer because of his actions. He had his whole life ahead of him. He was only twenty-two years old.
About two years later, my older brother, Donald, put his revolver in his mouth and blew himself up. His suicide was a violent death. He left our family and friends with many unanswered questions and tones of guilt and grievance. It was very difficult for me to separate my grievance from my anger. I was mad at him for doing this and leaving us with so much pain to deal with. He left behind a four-year-old son. He was divorced from his wife. He was only thirty-six years old.
A friend I used to know at school named Harky attached a hose to the exhaust of his car and pushed it through a port on the inside while killing himself. His explanation in a note was that he couldn’t go on without the girl who left him. She was quite distant from him when he died, but there’s no question what his family went through. He was in his mid-thirties at the time.
Another friend of mine, named Mike, hung himself from a bathroom door with a belt. Everyone was surprised by his actions. His girlfriend was watching TV in the other room at the time. There was no note. This was another case of a heavy load of questions, guilt, and grievances that his family had to deal with. He was a thirty-nine year old firefighter.
A distant friend I knew, named Steve, heroin overdose. It was speculated that his death was also an accidental overdose. She was living her life precariously on the edge. And he, too, left behind a monster of unanswered questions, guilt and grievance for his family. He was thirty something.
A co-worker of mine named German, he arrived at work early to hang himself by a boiler in the boiler room of the school where he worked. He was a kind, friendly and simple man. Again, why would he want to put his family and friends through this to suffer so much and feel guilt, shame and anger? He was in his mid-forties at the time.
Another friend and co-worker, named Brian, he decided to take the easy way out and overdose on a variety of pills. Her body was found near the open door of her refrigerator. He had been dejected by the breakup of a relationship with his girlfriend. He left a rambling and incoherent letter. He, too, left a family shaken with grief, anger, and many unanswered questions. He was fifty-nine years old.
My other older brother Brand, drank for about forty years. She developed cirrhosis of the liver and died a very slow and agonizing death. He was almost unrecognizable. He refused help and continued to drink until the fifth day before his death. It was horrible. His death was suicide by drink. Of course, that’s my terminology and not the coroner’s. But I think it was suicide in every way.
In brands case, I thought you were prepared for your next appointment with death. I was surprised that he had survived this long. I didn’t think he would experience the grievance and anger the way I did. He had so much potential. He was a handsome, intelligent and talented musician and artist, before this horrible disease took hold of him and beat his ambitions and choices in life to hell. He was a brother I was ashamed of because alcohol made him a jerk. He knew that once he was smart and that alcohol was the ultimate demon in him. I tried to look past his flaws, but it was our family that didn’t recognize his serious illness. Denial of his illness made him a mentally disturbed man. He was fifty-five years old.
If there is a message you could convey to young and old contemplating suicide, I would advise them not to be ashamed to seek professional help. I would also recommend that they evaluate their desperate decision and think about their actions. It would make them aware of how their decision to end their life would deeply affect their family and friends. I would ask them why they would want to inflict so much pain and sadness on their loved ones. Above all, I would tell them that everything must pass and that what seems unbearable to them now will seem so insignificant if they give it time.
The act of committing suicide is not recommended and approved by God. There will be no guarantee that your spirit and soul will make it to heaven. Suicide is final. It’s the easy road for some, but it means tears and pain for others.