Suicide is a selfish cop-out.
I was in a major accident in 2008, including multiple head injuries. I'm fully functional and now - 15 years later - only have moderate memory issues (on the mental side - I have a plethora of physical pain issues, but that isn't the subject here).
At the time, though? It was a VERY different story.
I spent 2 weeks in shock-trauma, heavily medicated, followed by four months in a rehab hospital learning to walk again, in the brain injury ward where out of 27 beds, I was the only one who could talk.
In the ambulance from shock trauma to the rehab hospital, my brain started recording again - and the first conscious thought I remember wasn't "where am I" or "what's going on", but..."who the hell is this inside my head?". I didn't know what was going on, but I knew something inside my brain was wrong. Immediately. I had (among other things) frontal lobe damage and swelling and bleeding. This is the part of the brain primarily responsible for personality and impulse control.
The person I had been for 35 years, died in a ditch on July 16, 2008. He is gone. He will never return.
I had no filter. If it went across my brain, it came out my mouth. I was angry. I was confused. I screamed at the nurses one night because they would not shut the **** up in the hallways, cackling and laughing, at three in the morning. My roommate - who could not talk and was thought to be "vegetative" by the staff (similar to many others in the ward), squealed and flopped around a little and tried to smile when I did it. These morons were keeping EVERYONE awake, and figured it was OK because nobody had complained. In the ******* brain injury ward. The chief of nursing talked to me the next day, chastising me that "you can't yell at the staff". I explained what happened...she saw that I was competent, angry, and mentioning lawyers...and I never saw those three nurses again.
I spent years (years!) in therapy learning to cope with the new person who was inhabiting my brain. My brain had changed, which meant **I** had changed - and not by choice, and not gradually. Blink of an eye, and I had to cope with it. Day, night, awake, asleep, sober, drunk, whatever - everything was different.
Everything.
There was NO escape.
For me, anyway. My now-ex-wife? She bailed. Because she could. I wasn't who she married, and instead of helping me(us) work through it, she bailed. Fine. I was already angry beyond belief anyway.
The only possible way for me to escape? Was suicide. I could draw you a photo-quality picture of every scratch and nick on the muzzle of my .38 revolver, as much time as I spent staring at it. Debating. Crying. Praying. And ultimately...deciding.
In the end, all I had was my parents, and my dogs...and I couldn't do that to them. Through that love - and the aforementioned years of therapy - I have managed to fight my way back and am now 15 years old (in a 50 year old body). It was a major uphill battle. It was hard as ****. I spent more money and time at the bottom of a whisky bottle (and beer cases, and a margarita glass...) than any human should. What saved me in the end? Prayer, love, determination, therapy, arrogance...and a LOT of hard work. Over the last 15 years, I have come up with one analogy for what I have lived through. If you have ever known identical twins, you'll understand this (and if you don't, well...the only way to understand it is to get bashed in the head until your brain bleeds, and go through it yourself). I became my own twin. Looks the same. Sounds the same. But just like identical twins, the more you get to know them; the closer you get; the more you realize....they're different. One is more outgoing; one more quiet. One more rebellious; one more restrained. Subtle differences...but they're there, and they're fundamental to who they are. I had changed into someone completely different, and there wasn't a goddamned thing I could do about it.
Nobody should have to go that alone.
We NEVER should have dismantled our network of "asylums" - mental health hospitals. Medication does NOT take the place of love and God and nurturing and supervision and guidance - and medication is all we have in today's world, a pill for this or a shot for that, and go your merry way in society whether you are a danger to yourself and others, or not.
Mental health care is DESPERATELY needed again in society. We need to erase the "stigma", and focus on care. Period. That step would solve SO many of society's problems right now. Suicide. "Gun violence". Abusive relationships. ALL of these could be mitigated or eliminated completely, through proper care, guidance, and education.
And yes, I have ZERO sympathy for a suicide. It is the coward's way out, and the only people it punishes are the people who love(d) the person who took their own life. I don't care if you kill yourself, or commit "suicide by cop" and try to take other innocent people with you - you are a coward. Period. If you try to take others with you, you are a pathetic coward.
If there is help available (and there always is), you have to do the work, but you can beat it. Or at least - as in my case - learn to live with it without too much daily struggle and pain. If you choose not to do the work, not to get help, not to make an effort...you are a coward. You're making excuses. You're playing the "victim". You're hurting those who love you. "Help" doesn't have to be "professionals", either - a FAMILY can help. Love. A support network. Church. God. All of the things being demonized today...can HELP.
And no, you will not change my mind.
If I can beat it, anyone can. But....you have to do the work. And in order to do that, you have to know what work to do - and that is where proper care and guidance (and God, and love, and family) come in.
