The End (a suicide story) Part 3

Life in the State of Mania

“Your father isn’t coming home any more  – he didn’t love us enough, so he killed himself” 

Last Part — In the Middle (a suicide story) Part 2

I had a support group that was watching, and listening for anything that just didn’t make sense come from me. But remember one more thing about my support group at that time, Doctor-housethey had been warned about my state of mind by those who was administering to me. (Doctors, Counsellor, etc.)
It wasn’t that I didn’t love my family, but that I was no longer in control mentally and I may as well have had a brain tumor — the death sentence was the same. Now I am so glad that I didn’t end my life that day, but the reality is that life — itself — is not easy — has not been easy, and probably will never be — at least for me.

Those people that show up at your door after the loss of your loved one due to suicide, don’t — know — anything, and never will, until they have walk down that dark hallway in route to their own suicide. These people, are people, who come to judge, not to help you find peace, they are the people that love nothing better reality TVthan to watch you fall on reality TV. No one — I mean —NO ONE— on this earth is in a place to judge a person in the case of a suicide, because no one can know what is going on in another person’s mind.

god handsOnly god knows, and god is the only one that can make judgement in the event of a suicide. (Yes that was a religious statement, and my belief.) But let’s think about it, if there wasn’t a God could a human know the events leading up to a person committing suicide? Again this is one death that is not easily understood within the confines of human ability.

We humans think that we are a lot of things, but mind readers we are not. Whenmind reader we as friends and family go and visit the survivors of death there needs to be compassion for the family; a good ear to hear them, and a good shoulder to bare them up during this time, not our opinions, and conclusions.

So with that, I am done with this soapbox… for now… Stay tuned…

In the Middle (a suicide story) Part 2

Life in the State of Mania

coffin in groudAnother day in America, another funeral, and the statistics again are counted, confirmed, and written down somewhere for everyone to see. But for the survivors of the suicide the tragedy, or should I say travesty has yet to begin. To the friends and family it now becomes their duty to fix the survivors  in the ways that they understand . So for the left wing righteous among us according to their  Religion 101 the act of suicide is one of the greatest sins against God, and going to 

hellhell is the judgement on those that commit suicide.  All that was eternal is now stripped away from that lost soul to suffer in anguish for all time.


NO!!! No amen here, I cannot believe that God would be so unjust, but then again some of the stories in the bible are kind of scary. The God that I believe in knows that the majority of suicides are made by the clinically depressed, mentally unstable in a world that gives birth not to Gods but mere humans — 490000 human babies every day!

Now to step back to Part 1, and that path that I was on. In those last days before I was institutionalized I told you of a peace that came over me, and in my self-talk I had committed to the idea, and had formed a plan. A Psychiatrist once told me that; “There is nothing more dangerous, or incredible; than when a Bi-Polar has come to a decision” and I was there. It is all a blur to me leading up to that night, and it was time for me to act, me wife knew that something was up and confronted me, and all hell broke loose, I do remember some of this, and that every immediate family member came with my family doctor to the house breaking horsesthat night. They, my family and the doctor talked me down it was like saddle breaking a new horse, I was then taken to the mental hospital, yes I said it; “mental hospital”

The noises that came from the hallways as I tried to sleep that first night was everything you would come to expect from a good asylum horror movie, but I asylummade it. I awoke in the beginnings of a drug induced lobotomy and made my way to the sitting area, where a gathering of patience’s where sitting, staring, and worse.  As I sat there, all I could think was; “Oh — my — God, this is a mistake” I wanted to scream but who would notice and they would just shoot me up with more drugs. I remained calm and waited for a chance to call my wife.  That day she came and got me, then moved me to a closer hospital that could care for me, it was there I spent the next few weeks.

“Your father – he didn’t love us enough, so he killed himself, and isn’t coming home anymore”

I hear statements like that all the time from those that have never been, or refuse to admit being depressed. I shudder at their comments, and want nothing more than to slap those speaking silly. I know now, that I was very close to the ending my life one night a long time ago, but I was lucky, I have a family that believed differently than those people do, I was luckier than those that made the statistics list that day.

Stay with me only one more post to conclude this series. “The End” (a suicide story) Part 3   — Will be coming soon…

Living in a State of Mania

Writing in the State of Mania

Bipolar Disorder

Fact or Fiction ???

The Starry Night

In 1987 I was diagnosed Bipolar Disorder by a Family Practice Doctor, I was 30 years old at the time. the connotations was, at this time period the scariest thing that I imagine. My thoughts were racing, and the worst thought was that of my life expectancy with this disease. Honestly in the 1980’s most Bipolars would put a gun to their head sooner or later.

A bipolar just didn’t die because of the disease they just one day for no apparent reason committed suicide, statistically most men did a good job on the first try, but women had to try a few times.

So for sure I had something to look forward to, but that was the stigma at during the 1980’s. During that first year after the diagnosis I will not lie to you, it (suicide) crossed my mind. All of the medication changes, and what they did to my body, fast weight loss, severe tremors, loss of sleep and the ever favorite flu like symptoms, and actions.

My small world now had become a big nightmare, for me, and everyone around me, I am like a bull in a china closet, no one was left untouched.


So how do you fuel a human bull? After the initial diagnosis the doctor put me on a pill cocktail of Lithium, a mood stabiliser and Prozac a antidepressant. Oh I forgot, Halcion to help me sleep. If you have time you need to read the links, do it! Great fun!

Fire Tetrahedron

Life wasn’t going to get any simpler with the 3 additions of pills for fuel, and I was breathing oxygen so now all that was needed was heat, but what would the heat be?

But when I get heated up then BOOM! If you were the unlucky one who got caught in front of the bull (me) you were going to get a mouthful of crazy. Even I wondered while walking away from the verbal destruction, what just happened? My family, my unfortunate family would get considerable more horns of the bull.

So what I needed was a way to stop the heat ups,  but — I don’t know what is causing them. This has been a major failure in my life, it is taking so many years finding the source of the heat — if I ever will.