Putting Out the Lights
 

I arrived at work this morning to find that one of our field personnel, a guy named TD, had taken his own life yesterday, apparently over an impending divorce.

Although I didn't know him well, TD was, for all appearances, a very together, upbeat, go-getter of a fellow. He was always smiling, reliable, punctual - from the business perspective, a dream employee. He was, in fact, on the cusp of being given considerable new responsibility and self-determination in his position with us.

When someone like TD takes his own life, it starts a guy wondering...how does one get to that point? I used to never know myself. I was always amazed and dumbfounded that someone could commit suicide, and I was more than a little judgemental and critical of those who did. Then, fifteen years ago, my wife left me while our son was lying paralyzed in a hospital, on the verge of death. As the weeks wore on and I became more isolated, more fearful, wallowing in the throes of alcoholic depression and enormous feelings of inadequacy...I finally saw it. I had finally gotten close enough to the precipice that I could see over it. I understood completely how putting out my own lights could be a solution to my misery. I had reached the point where never feeling anything again might be preferable to feeling the way I had felt for so long.

I took my Ruger out of its case, loaded it, and looked at it for a long time. Then I thought about everyone I knew, my friends, my son...my future, bleak though it seemed. And I put it away. Nothing so dramatic as putting the barrel in my mouth or up against my temple. Nothing so close as a single twitch on the trigger to dispatch my suffering. But I *saw* it, for the first time, in my mind, as a possibility. And I never wondered again how people could take their own lives.

As a sort of memorial to TD - a man who, from my point of view, had much to live for - I wanted to open up this thread. I wanted to unload a part of what I've felt this morning and the thoughts that it brought home to me. But, moreover, I wanted to ask the rest of you, my Cellar family - have *you* ever stood on the edge yourself? Have you ever tried to step off the precipice? Has someone who was dear to you done so? Do you want to share the feelings and thoughts about it?

Embracing the unthinkable from time to time keeps us emotionally and mentally free, limber, unencumbered. And maybe, just maybe, sharing our hearts and minds on this topic here, in our safe online home, will help one of us step back from the edge.

I've never been there, no. But I can imagine it very clearly. If my wife was ever to leave me and take the kids, I would want to die. I probably wouldn't kill myself, because I'm responsible and wouldn't want to put that burden on my kids, but I would want to die.

I do judge people who commit suicide if they leave loved ones behind who depend upon them.

See the "do you take psych drugs" thread

I'm familiar with that edge. I've stood there looking over it before, and I'm sure I will be there again, as I'm only a stones throw from there right now.

It's an easy way out, one decision that ends them all. A decision that's easy to make for those of us that aren't depended upon and have few that would be hurt by our absence.

I can see how some might take the above in a worrisome light. But worry not, there's no danger today or even tomorrow. However the day after tomorrow, or the day after that? Come as it may.

I spent most of last year wanting to die. I simply couldn't believe I'd ever have the mental or emotional strength for a normal daily life again. I was incapable of doing anything for myself, and believed I would stay like this forever and be a burden on my parents at a time in their lives when they were about to take much-deserved retirement.

I even counted up how many people would attend my funeral, and figured as it was less than ten it probably wouldn't have much impact anyway.

I didn't get to the point of making a suicide attempt, but I did try to break my wrists/ arms on a couple of occasions, knowing I would have a valid reason to go to the hospital and there be able to confess my feelings of total despair.

I also went walking on a local park after midnight on three occasions, hoping I would be attacked - more or less for the same reasons (but with the added possibility that I might be killed rather than injured).

These were pathetic attempts and I offer more to illustrate my state of mind rather than compare them to Elspode actually having a gun in his hand.

Thoughts of my family didn't prevent me from making a more serious attempt, but they did prevent it from being a completely positive fantasy. I lived at home when my Nan died (Mum's mum) and was there to help her with all the funeral arrangements. The one thing that stuck in my throat was the idea of Mum having to prepare food for the my wake without an extra pair of hands there to help. Ridiculous as it sounds, this was a very real concern to me.

I spent 3 hours one night on the phone to the Samaritans. It got me through the worst of it. I also had a number my GP had given me for a crisis line at the hospital - I had the number keyed into my mobile and spent a couple of nights with my thumb hovering over the "call" button, telling myself I'd leave it another five minutes. I always felt terribly melodramatic in the mornings, but again it got me through.

I don't think that suicide is really seen as a way out - at least it's not how I saw it. It's a belief (acceptance perhaps) that you are simply not capable of living until the situation improves. It's not, "Oh I can't be bothered, I quit!" rather, "I'd rather not exist forever than bear this any longer"

Grant's quote by Richard Bach always draws me up short - doesn't he (Bach) realise that people contemplating suicide are already dying inside their own heads and that they would carry that with them wherever they went? The issue isn't usually practical problems, it's the way you feel about them.

Anyway, personal opinion based on my own experience for what it's worth.

I don't want to bring up any politics with this question, but did this raise the possibility of getting the gun out of the house? Possibly even temporarily?

Brave thread, by the way.

I've been to the edge a few times myself. Unfortunately I didn't step over because I saw what I had to live for. I didn't step over the edge because I was simply scared. Scared of the pain, scared of a possible afterlife, scared of failing.

My situation involved an abusive sibling, a well-meaning single father who worked nights and weekends and couldn't quell the bottled hurricane that was my brother, and a lack of self-esteem on my part to effect any change.

It's been almost ten years since the abuse started. Three years after going our separate ways, I'm still convalescing. I've suppressed my feelings for so long, it's been theraputic typing them out on these forums to sort of air them out and get some semblance of closure.

Kind of as an aside, an economics professor I had a few years ago once lectured on the economics of suicide. It was quite an interesting lecture to say the least; fully realized as a discipline and fully rational.

No. Once I put it away that night, I knew I wouldn't do it. Besides, there's lots of ways to kill yourself. I still had a car and a garage. That's how TD did it.

My g/f has tried to top herself a couple of times. She's currently going through a tough phase in her marriage and my worst fear is that she'll succeed the next time she tries.

When my mum had cancer I euthenased her. She didn't want to live any more and the pain was too much. So that was that.

My Dad's Father did it when my Dad was 12. Fucked him up pretty bad.

I'd counsel against it.

Been 2 steps from the edge, but not the one step. Honestly, I think it was thoughts of not having a shot at revenge,that kept me from getting closer.

Have been 1 step from murder, however. I'm not detailing that.:headshake

I got dumped by my (current best friend) Savannah (who actually joined here for like, three days) two and a half years or so ago, and since no teenager has ever been dumped at thirteen years old before, i was... really, really fucked up. I cut some, I did some stupid shit, and came pretty close to the edge.

Suffice it to say, I got over being a dumbass relatively quick. However, considering I've prettymuch thrown away my whole life here for Caro, and shes just about all i've got but my guitar... I'm not even going to think about what would happen if SHE dumped me.

I recommend taking up the drums as well, and then finding another girlfriend. Try to skip the nasty drug habits in between if you can.

Spend a lot of time there... just not an option. I have a wife and son, they need me. It is not my place to make that decision for them.
Plus, I think it is a coward's choice.

Coming from someone who deals with what you deal with, that is a brave thing indeed, my friend. Fighting the good fight is never easy. Know that you have a family here who cares and admires you for your convictions and strength, man.

You know, I read this earlier and thought "yeah, right on" but didn't say anything. I should say something.

rkzenrage, I have a lot of respect for you and how you are dealing with what you are going through. You are a stand up guy.

Me I have had a few times in my life that I have thought about it ,
My mother , well for as long as I can rember every few years she tried some thing stupid , like takeing a handfull of codean , only problem was that she was alergec to codeen , so she pucked it all up , etc,,,,,,,

My father did put his lights out ( when I was about 5 ) , I have never gotten a streight story about that ( depression , or an afair ( or 2 ) tax dept etc,,,,) , Mom suposedly copyed his note( yeah RIGHT) and burned it ( she was the queen of SPIN , and a hell of a minuplater ), then every few years she would get out the note and tearfully read it to us , then with in a few weeks or days she would end up in the hospitol with tubes in her arms ,
Or her best friend ( /lover ) would try to do something stupid ,,,

A few years ago my sister May have tryed , her hubby druged him self to death over a few year period , then she wraped her Ford ranger around a tree at 100mph pluss , no skid marks from brakes , just WHAM !!! She broke both legs , and hips , broke her jaw in a few places destroyed her right elbow , and Fucked up her head , she wasn't right befor that and she is WAY not right .

The only way I would put my lights out is if I had an incurable cancer or some such , being eaten away from the inside .

Then the question comes up ,

If you did HOW WOULD YOU DO IT ,
Quick and messy or slow and clean ???


Sorry for the long post , just had LOTS of esperence with this subject .

That's what this thread is for...speaking the unspeakable, embracing the unembracable, thinking the unthinkable. If you want to clean the outhouse, the first step should be getting rid of the shit.

Me, I'm a pussy. I'd go for the "big handful of downers and a bottle of vodka" escape route if I ever took it.

How about 75 feet of stout piano wire ,
90 ft of stout rope ,
A tube or 2 of super glue ,

Find a tall building ( 100 ft ) , go to the top tie off the rope and the piano wire ,
tie the rope to your legs ,
put the looped piano wire over your head ,
Super glue your hands to your face ,
jump off the building
the piano wire comes tight , "Snick!! " no head
thenthe rope comes tight "Yoink !!!"

And you are left hanging by your feet , holding your head !!

Quick and sure , different , hell you would probley make the evening news !!!

That's awesome. If I ever do it, I'm stealing your method.

Just something I read onthe net some where that I thought was unique

Headbutt the sidewalk, no contest.

i don't know, zip....the snap of the rope might just rip the head loose from the grip of the super glue. heads are heavy. I wonder how long a head would remain aware after decapitation like that. would you know it if your head came loose?

LJ , would it matter ??

I've been thinking about getting close to edge many times over the last 30 years, since teens. Sometimes more often, sometimes less. It's the reason I chose to go on medication. I could deal with most of the other symptoms, but this one is dangerous. I never cut myself, but have harmed myself with life choices, just the same. Being overweight and having an unhealthy lifestyle is just really slow suicide, if you think about it. And I know that's part of my problem. I consciously think "fuck them, I'll show 'em, I'll eat a dozen doughnuts and drink half a case of beer". I've fantasized about suicide, and thought that my family needs me, and I'd like to see my kids grow up, and how a suicide would mentally fuck them up, and that has always stopped my from getting too close to the edge. The worst is when I think that they don't really need me, and don't care if I see them grow up. That's when I came up with the idea of the "car accident". As I was driving on the highway, I thought how easy and quick it would be to veer in front of a Semi. My family would be taken care of by insurance, and they wouldn't be effected mentally, because their father didn't "commit suicide", he died in a "car accident".

I'm not that great. A few years ago a PA o'd me. I went two weeks with no sleep (well, about two or three hours) while slowing being given larger and large doses of morphine.
I don't remember the last week and a half.
I tried at the end. I have a gun but tried to hang myself. Told them I deserved to suffer. I have a good idea why... my family goes through a lot.
I was released after the pump was removed and I got 48 hours of sleep. The first suicide attempt to be released in Polk County before the 72 hour watch time, ever. I had no intention of suing.
I know how close to the edge I am.
I was seconds from it, I was going to do it, there was no hesitation they told me.
It is a weekly struggle.
I am convicted and my reasons are in me and true... however, it is not easy. The pain never goes away, never lets up, never gives me a break and each day it is worse. That is what I have to look forward to, worse, always worse. Sometimes it seems like all I am holding on with are my fingernails and all I get is worse... I am no one's fucking hero.
I just keep thinking, what if my son thinks that I did not love him enough to stay with him? That can never be the truth, nothing will hurt that much. This will kill me soon enough anyway.

You'll forgive me, I hope, if I persist in admiring your strength, perseverence, and love of your family.

I'm sorry if that seemed directed toward any of you, it was not.
It has been a difficult few weeks.
You are very kind and I truly appreciate it. I am one of the luckiest people I know and do not deserve the blessings I have in this life... I do try to, I do, this is part of it. How hard it is for me makes me feel like I do not deserve them all the more.
Another aspect of this is that part of me feels that it is a kind of slow torture, their watching me die like this... as sick voice in the back tells me that it would be a mercy to end it for them as well.

No way. You are a lucid, caring, vital individual, suffering something that must be nearly unthinkable to the rest of us, yet you still make your family the first and foremost concern in your mind.

There's perfectly healthy swinging dicks walking around every day who can't muster up so much as a spare thought for anyone besides themselves. Now you tell me, how's a family going to want to do without a man like you in the name of convenience and denial?

I seriously doubt whether or not you married a woman who is capable of thinking that way, nor raised a son who wishes daddy would just go away...under any circumstances.

I know.
But, part of me answers your second question, "move on"... but I know it is a lie, in the way I picture it.

Lucid is kinda' pushin' it, lol.
Again, you are very kind. Thank you.

Funny you mention the first comments, this last week I was going through a lot with my bladder and stones... to me it really was not that bad. It made the Dr. and nurses very squeamish and they apologized a lot. I had to keep telling them, "s-ok, keep going, I'm all right. I'll tell you when to stop...".
The amount of pain I deal with daily, does not really dawn on me until I have to deal with what others see as something awful. However, at the same time, I know it is trashing my nervous system.
My ego is really taking a hit, I'm going to have to start using a catheter from time to time... I'm very embarrassed by it, just as I started to be a little ok with being in public on days when I could not hide pain.
I'm not keeping-up.

I would imagine that your pain tolerance is astronomical compared to the rest of us who are blessed to be pain-free, man.

Don't sweat the small stuff like being cathed. Hell, I've got a bag pasted to my abdomen for the last 16 years, now. It bothers me when I'm morose, but the rest of the time, who cares?

Keep tickin' and talkin', bro.

for me, those 2 steps were my children. Even in my darkest moments, I could never do that to them. Lifesavers indeed.

Thanks man, that helped.

Edit:
Another aspect to this is that it is not just my wife and son, anyone who cares for me, this hurts as well.
Think of it, the role my parents are supposed to play has been completely reversed.
I should be taking care of them, but I have lost my home, I am having to have people take care of me (we now live across the street from them) they have to help with my son, they have to help me with the chair and aspects of my health that parents should not have to deal with, with their kids. They are very young, mid to late 50's with me just turning 39.
It is as if they got sick along with me. What I see them go through on days when I can't get out of bed or when something goes wrong... there are no words.
I cannot imagine going through this with my son (that is a whole other can of worms, I did not know I was this bad or that it was genetic when we decided to get pregnant, the good thing is that the chances are very low).

FWIW, I *have* been through bad stuff with my son, who is now cognitively disabled for the rest of his life. Trust me on this...you'd rather it be you. I would have given anything to take his burden upon myself so that he could have had a normal life.

RZK...people take care of you because they love you. You've shared a lot of yourself here, your past, your present, and your future. From all I see, you've lived a hell of a good life, and despite your pain and inevitable fate, you are a remarkably upbeat and engaging man. Pretty fuckin' sharp lookin' dude to boot.

You've got tons to feel good about, bro.

Fuck'n A !!!
Shit happens , a MAN deals with it and carries on ,and a Pussy doesn't .

You SIR are NO PUSSY !!!

You guys all impress me. People can be damn tough.

rkzenrage does have an advantage though. I'm going to read more about this but cognitive scientists are studying Buddism and Buddists. All kinds of cool potential from getting around brain injuries, to depression, pain control, mental illness, you name it, if its in your gourd you can alter it.:cool:

rkzenrage, I think, by example, you are teaching your son a very important trait, strength of character. He learning that some days, life sucks, but you get up tomorrow & do it again. And strength of character is something that will show itself in many other ways. The world needs strong, honest men & women. It's something we don't see much of anymore. Quoting a wise woman I know, "You'll be alright, you're a tough guy".

I really appreciate it everyone.
Part of it has been the last two weeks to a month. I have been through a lot, plus the weather has been bad. I am not sleeping and am in more pain that usual, lol! These kidney stones and the infection has been, and are, pretty trying.
Been good until the last few days... wearing on me. As soon as I get some damn sleep, I'll be ok.
Again, thank you all so much for your support. It means more than you can know.

I've been one half step away. I've had the rope around my neck and tied securely but I couldn't finish it. I've cut myself (not across to the hospital, but down to the morgue), and watched it bleed, then stopped it. I've written a few notes, and torn them up.

It's always been prompted by marital strife. It's that way now. Fortunately, the current balance of emotions is heaviest on anger and frustration, and not despair. Despair is the killer. A lack of hope is about as bad as a lack of oxygen. It all seems so black, so unendingly painful. A surcease of pain is what I sought. And a little posthumous appreciation. That's stupid. I was temporarily stupid.

I have days, sometimes weeks where I don't think about killing myself. Those are good days. But that's never permanent. The trouble, the pain is always there. It ebbs and flows. When it floods me, and I can't make it stop or see the end, I hear it's siren call. Come. Rest. I hear the voice now, but it's distant. I can resist.

But I've felt the darkness mute the noonday sun, and that voice drips it's bittersweet poison into my ear, come, end the pain. Just one step, and you'll be free. It can be very, very appealing, at those times. But so far, so far, I gag and choke on those words, and live. In pain, but living. So far, so good.

Deuce, I'm not trying to be critical here, but if it's so bad, can't you do something about your marriage?

No offense, but this is a very selfish way to think of your life, suicide as a solution.

You're only thinking of a way to "free" and "liberate" yourself, you aren't thinking of other people who care for you; a la your significant other! Sure you have problems; but you're a human being. You aren't that special, strife occurs in everyone's life!

Don't want to be a downer but these are things that happen and by taking yourself out of the picture makes things worse for everyone--not to mention leaves a lot of people extremely sad that you are lost!

I'd seek therapy, this chronic suicidal feeling is not healthy at all. I'm glad you've fought this internal struggle, that's the best way to start.

Wow. I feel better already. Fuck you very much.
Go back and read the opening post. When you've walked a mile in my shoes, I'll reconsider your helpful, compassionate remarks.

Sure, I see three options.

Continue with no changes, keep suffering. Poor choice.

Divorce, worse choice.

Work to improve our marriage. Best choice.

Continue with no changes. This has the superficial appeal of being "easy" since no difficult changes are required. But the accumulation of all that deferred maintenance can make everything else anything but easy. I don't like conflict, so avoiding the problem has real appeal to me. But I know it's not a solution.

Divorce. Well, like suicide, this has a certain permanency to it. Like suicide, it avoids the problem, instead of solves it. It's an "option", but one I am loathe to take. I don't want divorce. I want harmony. I want togetherness. I want a shared life.

Work to improve our marriage. Best choice. Hardest work, greatest reward, longest (unending) path. There's more to this choice, my choice, than I have time or room to post just now. But this is what I'm doing.

I've dealt with depression my whole life.
What works for me is trying to stay in the moment, keep the goals that you focus on most of the time in the immediate. It really helps, at least for me.
When I start looking at large things, like my past or the "future" it is very depressing. Focusing on things that are closer to now, things I can actually DO something about does not feel so oppressive or overwhelming. "This is something I am doing" feels good, no matter what it is, gardening, home project, planning a trip, a class at the local college/community college/library, it does not matter... just something.
Now, I am NOT saying that something trite like a hobby or class will cure depression... I am saying that dealing in the now and doing something positive on a regular basis helps.
It also helped me in my marriage when we where having problems. Gave me something to focus on other than our "stuff" all the time. Kept it from festering and helped me be objective and look at things from her perspective... say "I was wrong" or "I don't think I was wrong, but this is why" in a calm, non-threatening way, a lot more.
Dude, please know, this is not advice... it is just what has worked/is working for me.

This sounds a lot like The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle, a book I partially read but really should finish reading. It's a lot of Zen and shutting your mind off to only use it when necessary, hence no meaningless thought like fear, regret, whatever.

Thanks for the reminder. . . if nothing else, it's an interesting read. Just sitting and breathing deeply, taking breaks to think about the text when prompted seemed to calm and soothe my nerves when I felt especially down. Maybe it can help someone else, too.

Last year I had a 1/2 ass plan. I realized my health would only get worst with time.
If I die in bed I'm worth about enough to pay for my bar-b-q and a few bills. If I die in an auto accident I'm worth a lot more.
So I thought buy a big Honda bike and make a road trip. West, north west and maybe Alaska. If that trip didn't get me, I might give it a little nudge. I had a Honda interstate back in 80s, think I paid around $ 8 k for it. guess I could still ride.

I priced a new one, wow. Then used, damn. Couldn't find anyone to give me one, so that was end of plan.
Depression and alcohol can really come up with great brain storms. bb


32

cries for help or just plain whining...
 

I need help.

I keep thinking I am getting a handle on things and I keep falling back into the hole.

I have no problem advising my friends that life will get better and it's worth living.

Lately, my financial problems are not getting better, and my job is getting worse.

I've come so close to walking out of my job...this job that saved my life 5 years ago, this job I used to love, that made me feel important, that gave me some relevance in this shithole world.

They keep piling more and more on our department, historically the most underpaid and overworked, underappreciated department...while I listen to other counselors laughing and joking in each other's offices for a large part of the day.

I'm not saying we're better...I'm saying we're at least as valuable (with close to 50% of our students receiving some sort of financial aid there wouldn't be a school without us.)

I'm at my wit's end here. I think I want to see if I can find Valium on the street or something. I sometimes get so upset I want to punch something, or hurt myself. I just want to give up. This anger arises as I watch things going on around here...it's become so damn political and phony...I feel helpless, like a wild animal cornered who comes out fighting.

My boss even agrees that we have been under SO much pressure for SO long something has to give. She is pretty calm, but she makes money more equal to her tasks, too, and has a very spiritual life that I think helps her. Not much help to me, being agnostic.

I don't know what line of work I could change to. I'm so tired of students mad at us because we have to follow regulations. I'm tired of crunching numbers for hours to reconcile millions of dollars. I'm tired of working late nights to recruit (what admissions supposedly gets paid more for), to process the thousands of records we get from the DOE. I'm tired of hearing the whining, the crying, the "you people are screwing up my life." I'm tired of the thankless, compensation-less, stressful days. I'm tired of students complaining about their financial situations when I'm just about two steps away from homelessness and despair.

I just don't know what to do. The pain is becoming more that I can bear. My two anti-depressants are not making a ding in the kind of stress I am feeling. I can't even afford the 25 dollar co-pay on a med check at this point in time.

I wonder what I have done to deserve this. The rational side of me KNOWS things could be so much worse...but when you're mired in the mud of despair that doesn't sink in very well, no pun intended.

Thanks for listening. :sniff:

I made a life list a couple of hours ago. I'm going to go through and start building lists of action-items for some of the things on it.

Tomorrow I'll start checking them off.

I went to Prince William Forest Park the other day and walked the paths for a couple of hours. Why did I ever think I wanted an indoor job?

Shawnee I really think you have to start looking for other work. It really sounds as if the job is taking far too much of a toll on you - they pay you to work there, not to screw your head up & trash your life.

I know it's really hard when you are already spiralling down, to think of a way of getting out of it. I know application forms and interviews are tough at any time let alone when you are at your lowest, but please think about it, I hate to hear you so lost.

Can you have a word with your boss and take some time off? I know it's a short term solution but you're not going to be able to think straight while you are under daily pressure. Can you get signed off for a couple of weeks by a GP (don't know how that works over there - many companies in the UK pay sick leave, at least to start with). If you could get signed off until payday, then you can afford to get your meds checked?

I dunno, I'm probably not coming up with anything you haven't thought of yourself. Sorry - I wish I had a great solution but I'm barely balancing as it is.

Don't think people don't care though, keep posting your feelings if it helps to let it out. Good luck.

Yeah, Shawnee. I read your post and wanted to be able to help, but I've just got nothing to offer, so I didn't post. Hang in there.

Thanks you guys! I really didn't expect a response, I just needed to get it out. I know there is no easy solution; I am trying to find the gumption to make a real move.

Just that , some days it is so overwhelming. I know it isn't normal to live under a high level of stress for an extended period of time.

I'm glad I have the Cellar and the wonderful Cellar Dwellars to listen and offer a kind word.

:)

I don't know what to say either, but you deserve better. Don't let the bastards grind you down... just look for other work. The choice isn't between walking out or not walking out. You CAN make your own exit, your own way. You CAN build the world you want.

Like glatt I didn't know what to say yesterday, but UT and SG are right. Perhaps even the small rebellious action of considering the job ads will help you to feel a little more in control; then sending in one application may also help you to feel that there are things you can do to change your situation ... Can you do temping (temporary secretarial work) to have an income without the sort of shit you're having to put up with? Hang in there, Shawnee ...

Shawnee, I suspect if start looking for something else you'll feel a little better right away because you know it's not going to last forever. It suddenly becomes a temporary hassle.
You've been putting up with it for years so I know you can go through the motions a while longer. Just knowing you have options is a boost.
Spend your lunch with your feet on your desk reading the want ads. If they say anything...light up a cigar. :lol:

Thanks all. I am definitely going to fix up my resume (I need to update my job description anyway, which when I'm done will be pretty impressive with all the tasks I have) and keep my eyes peeled. I know that one way or another it will work out.

You are all great...thanks! :)

PS My computer died today (it's fairly new) and IT had to haul it in. I'm across the hall using a spare computer. I'm thinking of employing Bruce's cigar idea!

is it too late to join in this conversation?
 

I haven't been back to the Cellar for a few years, mainly due to my collapse. I am right at the edge of my precipice, and thought I would look and see if there was a Cellar thread for this. And of course, there is.

I read through the whole thread, most of it from 7 years ago. I recognised quite a few names, which surprised me. After I finished I did a quick check on two names that stuck with me, Shawnee123 and Sundae. Shawnee hasn't posted since 2012 - anyone know anything? - but I was so relieved to see Sundae was still posting. (Remember me, Sundae? Satan's Claw?)

So here's why I'm at my precipice.

I am 53. I am an agnostic. I have no children. My parents are both long dead, one by suicide, one from a gruesome form of cancer which had her die in the most excruciating pain. The doctors and nurses had compulsory weekly counselling.

They were both immigrants, my mother from Japan, my father from Germany. Both immigrated alone, so I never grew up with any other family in Australia. I have met my relatives in both countries, and had been close to some for a while, but the contact dwindled - primarily from their side - over the years, and we have let it go.

My partner immigrated from Holland. We had lived in his country for 6 years. He has a large family, but they do not particularly like me - surely I forced him to leave there? - and none have ever visited in the 10 years we have lived here.

I have always had a difficult personality, although I have been working hard at it since my teenage years, trying to be more acceptable without selling my soul together with my ethics.

My parents, like many immigrants, remained stuck in the time warp of their own country in the 50s. I was raised very harshly, with frequent beatings. I never felt loved, never felt safe. My parents didn't just have a strict attitude to child raising - they had different attitudes to it, while I lived in a third world of Australian families and their (generally quite different) social rules. They also didn't like each other.

At school I did exceptionally well, but due to being fat, plain, and unsporty, being good academically was a very bad thing. Also, Australia in the 1960s still an unpleasant place for Japanese and Germans (understandably in some ways) and as the child of both I copped racism on a daily basis. I was one of two children in my school who was not of Ango-Irish ancestry.

High school took that up a notch. My life consisted of emotional, verbal and physical abuse at home and at school. I developed a classic case of BPD, although it was not diagnosed until 2005.

I'll fast track this to a few decades later. My emotional instability fecked up my life despite all efforts to alter my behaviour. My friendships, relationships, workplaces, groups I went to - all were affected sooner or later by my behaviour, although each and every time some people would say, "it's not your fault, you did nothing wrong."

It seemed like I had been cursed at birth to always have conflict, loss and abandonment in my life. Not just in my imagination - I have witnesses to all events. But what were the chances that these things always happened to me simply by random chance? Things that just rarely seemed to happen to anyone else. (And that IS being objective.) I was the only common factor. It had to be me.

I was diagnosed with a inherited mood disorder, and was put on medication. The psychiatrist made it clear that this would not fix my life. It would stop the cycles of extreme depression (about twice a year in my 30s, and lasting about a fortnight) but I would still need to attend to the psychological trauma and patterns.

I began a 12 month course of DBT. It was hard work, with 6 hours weekly of group therapy, and one session of individual therapy, additional to seeing my psychiatrist. I finished it not long after we had bought a farm in the country. A new person for a new life.

For about 4 years it worked pretty well. I did not feel as emotionally affected by events, and was able to maintain some reasonable social relationships with people. But I had not let them get close yet.

When I did, that’s when it all went wrong again. My best friend for 3 years stopped speaking to me because I tried – very gently, supportively and non-judgementally – to tell her about how I had thought of a way she could have her dog untethered. I had only recently learned that her Blue Heeler (an Australian working dog) had been on a one metre chain all the time for the last 7 years. I had always been there in the evenings and thought it was just chained up for the night. The same sort of thing happened with two other “close” friends.

And then something awful happened in my marriage, and I nearly died. That was the moment that my husband, “thought I was actually going to lose you” and decided we could go to marriage counselling after all. I won’t go into more of that except to say from the point on I lost interest in life, and it hasn’t really come back since. He has been as good as his word, and has seen a counsellor to understand and change his ways, to a relationship counsellor, and has been the best husband I could ask for. I trust him again now, after almost three years of not trusting him at all. But I can’t feel any connection to him. There is a big wall between us that my emotions have thrown up, and I cannot find a way to lower it. I have tried tricking it with drugs. No go. Our therapists have made suggestions but just keep saying “it needs more time”.

The awful things with other people have continued to happen, despite the fact that I have kept it to minimal contact.

My best friend for the last three has been my neighbour, Trish. We are like chalk and cheese. She likes reality TV, glossy mags, buying the latest fashion, couldn’t give a damn about the environment, and gave her 2 year old daughter a hot pink Barbie flat screen TV and DVD player. Not me at all. But we were really close. We lives about 1km from us and saw each other every other day, and phoned the other days. Last December she demanded I throw out Derek, a 19 yr old American guy who was staying with us as a HelpXer. His motorcycle was broken and he had been waiting on parts for two months (we helped him track the parts, so we know it is true.) We invited Derek to stay on for Christmas. Mid December he did something wrong – naively and without ill iintent – but he corrected it, and did not do it again. Trish demanded I throw him out because of it. It did not actually affect her in any way, and could not at any time in the future, but she was outraged all the same. I said I could and would not do it. She insisted, saying otherwise I was turning Christmas to shit. She said I had to understand this was her moral universe. I said I understood that but this was my ethical universe.

She has not spoken to me since. She will not look at me, she will not meet me to discuss it. My husband went to speak to her about it on the weekend, and she is adamant. Curiously, but as usual, even though my husband agreed with me, and was co-responsible for Derek staying, she has no issue with him.

This has been my life as far as I remember it. Taking the blame for things that just everyone else knows was not my fault.

I’m not putting all this very well, as I am slightly enhanced at the moment. I can barely cope with life without it at the moment. But for the last week I have been thinking: nothing I have done has changed the path of my life. I have lived in several different countries and cultures. I have tried to alter my behaviour to be more acceptable. I have tried being myself (bad). I have seen various therapists. Taken courses. Read a shit load about it. It seems to make no difference at all, and to be honest, if this is how much life is likely to be for the next 20-30 years, then what is the bloody point of it?

We are going to Myanmar / Burma in early February, my first real holiday away from the farm in 8 years. I worked for human rights in Burma for years. It has been a dream for just as long to go there. I’m not really that excited about it, but I am counting on the culture shock to get me out of my frame of mind, at least for the few weeks we are there.

I have promised my husband not to “put any lights out” until we return from Myanmar. But I feel very calm when I think of doing it. It is a comfort to me, to think I can do it. I know how. There are two options. When I think of not doing it I started to feel hysteria rising.

What the fuck am I writing this to you for? I cannot talk to anyone here about it anymore. Even my psychiatrist and psychologist seem to have run out of things to say or suggest, other than to encourage and support my decision to defer it to when we return from Burma.

I respect so many of the people on the Cellar for their intelligence, their maturity, their objectivity and their sensibility. If any of you have been in this sort of situation – no cancer, no kids, financially stable if not rich, a supportive husband despite the lack of connection – then please tell me what made you decide not to. I only thought of asking it here today and I hope you will forgive my long rant if you have come this far.

Of course I remember you Sandy.
Christ on a bike, this isn't the welcome back post I want to write though.

Shawnee has morphed into Infinite Monkey. She's still a very valued member of the Cellar and I wouldn't presume to speak for her regarding her mental state these days.
All I can tell you is that Brianna has been our only suicide as far as I know.

I am so close to the edge myself. Or to use the "putting out the lights" analogy, let's say my finger hovers over the switch on a daily basis, in my mind if not to the extent of making actual plans. Even as I sit typing this I am aware of how hyper-sensitive to noise I am, my nerves are turned up to screaming pitch and just the click click fucking click of that man's cutlery as he eats his breakfast makes me want to grab his fork and bury it in his throat.

My story is very different than yours, except for the point we've reached.
You've had a successful relationship for a start, my longest was with my cat, and I left him long enough to die in a stranger's arms. It may be troubled/ over/ in its death throes, but the man exists.

You were bullied at school but were an academic success; I was teased but in hindsight I was considered popular. They were still talking about me when my brother went to the same school a year after I left, apparently. I heard years later about how I was perceived and it did not match how I saw myself at the time. I certainly have never lived up to the potential of my intelligence. One of the many incorrect sobriquets applied to me over the years has been "well educated" despite leaving school at 16.

I've even been called refined, as if I'd been to the Sorbonne rather than state school.
The only way I've been refined is like sugar - treated in a way that made me more damaging...

What are we going to do?
Those of us with our impossible first world problems, our unsolvable personalities?
Just depend on the sufferance of those we've allowed to get close. Keep breathing. Enjoy wearing tight sparkly sweaters with rabbits on them.
And know that one day this will be done and whether we we're Victor Mature or Zsa Zsa Gabor we're all worm food.

Sorry hon. I'm a bad person to ask right now.
I hope one of the successful and clever people here replies.
I'm neither. But I really do look good in this sweater. Even with the arterial spray on it.

Hi Sandy! Welcome back. I'm glad the Cellar is still here for you. I remember your name, but don't really remember much about you.

It looks like just being able to post about what you are thinking and feeling is of some help to you. If you find yourself having trouble connecting with people in real life, why not try to connect with people online? There are communities like the Cellar where you can do things like share your experiences on a trip to Burma (I can't bring myself to call it Myanmar) and get interaction with people that way. Suicide seems like such a permanent and drastic solution to the problem. Don't you have any curiosity about what's going to happen next? What more you can do and experience in the world? It seems to me that if you are willing to do something so drastic, that you could do something less drastic just for the experience. After all, there is always the suicide option later.

Sandy, round sunburned face with freckles and a killer smile, as I recall. Hi!
A lot of us had parents with notions of child rearing that haven’t proven to give the most desirable results… and some were really fucked up. The same goes for family, schools, employers, and the people in general, but like it or not they shape who we become. Since we can’t change the past, the best we can do is decide what we’re working with and what we want the future to be. Should we change ourselves, or our perception of ourselves, or work with what we feel we have?

You seem to be firmly convinced of who and what you are, and you’re the reason friends don’t come easy or last long. Is that because your idea of what a friendship should entail, how it should work, is out of step with other people? I’m guessing Trish was offended by Derek and feels you betrayed her by forgiving him. She wouldn’t feel betrayed by your husband because she didn’t consider him a friend.

At 53 you’ve been through the mill long enough to see a pattern you don’t like, but feel you-am-who-you-am-and-that’s-all-that-you-am.
Avoiding lame jokes about living upside down in Australia, the $64 question is can you figure out an acceptable future? Can you write a script of a life where you, with all your perceived pluses/minuses, can control your environment enough to avoid conflict and aggravation.

It’s a tall order and shit happens, but by trying to avoid situations you feel won’t turn out well, if shit happens you know you tried, so fuck it, their problem not yours. If you have a craving for a Doris Day/Donna Reed lifestyle, that’s going to be a problem unless you change yourself… a lot. But if you can be reasonably happy on the farm with your husband and minimum outside people, you’ve got a shot at it.

Hope your trip is as good as you've dreamed it would be, and let us know how you’re making out, because we’re family and we care, goddamn it, that's why! :comfort: