My post about suicide

This post is going to get very real, very fast. September is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. I have considered killing myself. More times than I can count. If I had ever had a gun at my disposal, I am quite certain I would not be here writing this. (That’s one big reason why I am a proponent of gun sense laws.)

I’ve Googled how much of a certain medication I would need to take to overdose and die. I’ve envisioned driving my car into a wall. I’ve thought about taking a razor blade to my veins in the bathtub. (How very Hollywood of me.) I’ve thought about suicide within the last month even.

Few people know this dark side of me, and I feel immense shame writing about it now. But why should I feel this shame? What about our society makes me feel this way?

I’m ashamed because I appear to have a really good life: a house, a good job, a nice husband, two kids, a dog—but I still want to end it all. When I feel suicidal, I am blinded by my mental illness—my clinical depression—to think that the world would be better off without me. That I am fucking up my husband, my kids and the world with my mere existence. I feel overwhelming guilt for my shortcomings: my moments of bad parenting, my oversensitivity to other peoples’ comments and actions, my human failings. And I just don’t want to be here anymore.

It’s exhausting. It’s terrifying. And I don’t want to feel ashamed anymore. I had a terrible spring this year. Months of exhaustion and pain and these suicidal thoughts. I got help, which was no small feat. It was a struggle to find a doctor who could prescribe new depression medications. I had to wait weeks. I told doctor’s offices all over town that I was teetering on the edge of ending it all (almost wrote “killing myself” there but felt shame, dammit), and the only thing they could tell me was, “Go to the local emergency room.”

I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to up-end my kids’ lives by being admitted to the psych ward. Again, that’s the shame I was talking about. So I toughed it out, and survived. And I mean survived in the truest sense. I think that was the closest I’ve ever come to taking my life.

I’m writing this to help end the stigma and the shame surrounding suicide. Please know that all kinds of people struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts. They are not bad people who lack coping skills. You can’t just snap out of it. Zoloft saved my life, and I’ll be on that med for the rest of my life.

“One conversation can change a life.” That’s the tagline for the Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. I think of this post as a conversation, and I hope that if you’re reading this, you’ll gain a new understanding of suicide. Or, if you’ve ever been in that abyss, you’ll know that I understand you. And I don’t judge you. I just want to be there for you. Let’s end the shame.







15 thoughts on “My post about suicide

  1. I wish I didn’t know exactly how you feel. I wish I hadn’t spent years hiding it all from the world, putting on the game face, bottling it all up. Letting it build and build and build.

    I did find myself holding a gun in my hand night after night trying to decide if today was the day. Sitting by myself, in the light of a singe lamp, drinking quietly and thinking. Always thinking. Never getting peace from the thinking.

    One night as I was pondering and truly thinking that I was ready that I was tired of being tired, the dog jumped in my lap and shook me out of things. I decided it was time to think about living.

    And it was a start. It’s been a long road. It’s been a lot of meds and therapy. I won’t say that I’m happy but I guess I’m not miserable and the thought of suicide seems further away than before. It’s still a struggle but maybe a little less so.

    I’m glad you’re here. I get what you’re saying. Talk to someone whenever you need to. Please. I’ll always be a friend to listen if needed.

    1. Right back at you. And I really mean this: thanks for sharing. I’m so glad you have a dog. In my darkest moments, it’s usually my pets who comfort me. Family can try, but there’s something about a furry, warm loving creature that is perfect.

      1. Family and friends mean well…but (and I hate like hell to say it) unless they’ve been there, they really don’t get it. That doesn’t mean I won’t take their love and support for what it is, just that I need someone a little more impartial usually to really unload. I still find myself censoring thoughts, even with the people closest to me…sometimes ESPECIALLY to the people closest to me.

        Therapy was the hardest thing I’ve ever done…and the best thing I’ve ever done for myself.

        Talking to a pet that gives unconditional love is close. It does help me, for sure.

  2. You will not feel better if you kill yourself. You won’t get to enjoy the relief of feeling better because you will be dead! I used to think most every day about suicide, but luckily I got beyond it with the help of meds and realizing what I would miss in life. I wish I was there to hold you and tell you it can and will get better.

    Fuck the stigma and go to a rehab or whatever for some intense professional help. We all want you in our lives and we will do whatever it takes to achieve that.

    Keep talking about how you are feeling. Me and mom will do whatever is necessary to help you. Whatever is necessary! We have no qualms about cancelling the party and coming to Bloomington right now.

    We love you,


    Penni Sent from my iPad


  3. Ceci, there should be no shame but Dad understands more than I do. Everyone has such thoughts at some times but not continually pervasive as you have.Thank God you got help and better meds. You are so important to us both and enrich our lives. We want you here and feeling good about yourself and how you better all the lives you touch! Love you darling girl! Reach out and call us anytime, anywhere. Mom

    Sent from my iPad


  4. Ceci,
    I admire so much your courage to share this, I too hope we can end the shame and stigma that those who suffer feel. I know that I don’t truly understand what it feels like to think that the world be be better if I were not here. I watched my sister suffer from depression and mental illness and eventually end her life. I witnessed the shame that she felt. It was so painful to watch and realize that no matter how much we were there to support her and love her she couldn’t break through the pain that she felt. I realized at that time that no matter how depressed I have felt in my life, I never knew what it felt like to feel like there was no hope. I am so thankful that there are many more effective medicines today to treat mental illness so people who suffer can be helped and live.

    It has been over 30 years since Lisa died. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss my little sister and wish that she were here to share in my life.

    You are an amazing woman and my hope is that you always find the strength to fight through and beat this horrible illness.

  5. C–

    Today is a new day. One day at a time. When I was really hurting, I would be at work and think how can I do another day feeling so bad? But I did with meds and your mom putting up with my moods and bad times. I still use meds, but the really difficult depression periods are pretty much gone. “Normal” people really have no clue and tend to say the wrong things thinking they are helping. They don’t know how lucky they are.

    Mom and I are here for you and love you greatly. DO NOT LEAVE US!



  6. Although there were many times in my youth I wanted to put an end to the hell that was my life, the first time I got close was when I sat in the bathroom with a razor blade. The my baby girl cried out in her sleep. There were other times (tomorrow, I’ll drive to the lake, take all my meds at once and go for a swim). Finally Wellbutrin stopped the self bashing and shaming. Now I live the best life of my life! I’m so surprised at your post. I had no idea. You are so beautiful, smart and funny. Funny how so many of us are in the same boat :). Thanks, it makes me feel more “normal” 🙂

  7. Ceci, there are diffirent illness’es Sam and I didn’t realize that you struggled with depression. Let me tell you something… Forty six years ago ” with 2 young boys” I was diagnosed with terminal melanoma with three months to live by three hospitals in Washington, DC, was sent to Sloan and Kettering and had radical facial and neck surgery. They witnessed a miracle healing. I was anointed before being sent to NY and God healed me. God is more eager to heal our souls than we are to be healed. Read James chapter 5:13-16 in the New Testiment PLEASE!

    Also please read and meditate on Luke chapter 17:11-19. Some are healed physically and some are healed physically and spiritually. I was blessed to be healed of cancer and was made “WHOLE”, “CANCER” changed my LIFE forever. Ceci, God can and will heal you, years from now you can look back and realize perhaps God ALLOWED something that He did not WILL, but as our attention is directed in Him, we realize our soul is worth being redeemed.The New Testiment is God’s love letter to you, take time and make reading it a priority. Perhaps one day you will have a ministry to the sick for what you have been healed of. Ceci with great love I feel after praying for you tonight that God has inspired the words you are reading. In the natural I am not gifted as a writer. It has been a small miracle that I read your story tonight. God gave me Psalm 91:1-16 months before He healed me. During my suffering, I am glad that I didn’t know His plan for me. ” With long life He has redeemed me, and has shown me HIS SALVATION.” With love to you. Betty Jones

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