My Lifelong Battle With Suicide and Depression. (LONG)

Son of Werdum said:
I do think those afflicted are helpless to "fix" the problem, because it is not something that can be fixed, it is something that is learned to live with. It is like becoming paralyzed from the waist down. There is no medical procedure, no exercise that can be done, it won't improve in time, you just learn to live with your new reality as a paraplegic.

Similarly people with clinical depression never really "get better" some days and even months are better than others but always comes back. You can chose to medicate with SSRI's but as I understand you basically take them for life, they never really "cure" you, they just mask the symptoms until you stop taking them.

I agree that helping others is a big part of happiness and being a good person in general. It can help manage depression, a healthy lifestyle in general can, but when it kicks in depression overrides anything. It doesn't care how productive, or selfless, or reflective I have been. It doesn't care if I have friends or are in love.

It sounds bleak but really the only options are: dope yourself to the gills with anti-depressants and hope you don't have a bad reaction, kill yourself, or find whatever it is that keeps you alive and trying to live with the affliction the best your can. This is a lifelong battle, I have no delusions I will ever be "cured."
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If you agree that helping others is a big part of happiness then you have to acknowledge that people with depression aren't totally helpless.

I'm not offering a panacea that will magically cure depression. As you've said in other threads, this is, at its core, an issue with brain chemistry. But to say that people suffering from depression are 'helpless' simply isn't true; it denies the work of brilliant psychologists like B.F. Skinner & Victor Frankl and it also denies thousands of amazing success stories over the years.

Even people with severe clinical depression are able to make major progress with various tools. This is a documented fact; every year people with depression are able to take strides in dealing with their illness that is more productive than they could have previously imagined. Not a cure, but enormous improvement. As you say, the most severely afflicted always have to be concerned about relapse. But 'live with the affliction the best you can' offers a lot more promise than you're letting on.
 
Curious where you were hospitalized and if they diagnosed you with a personality disorder.
 
Hi TS. Thanks for sharing.

I too have had some similar experience but to a lesser degree. I only ever thought about ending things as a teen and even then I was cognizant that I would get back to 'normal' soon.

There is never a reason for it, the black dog doesn't come when called.

Yes, love for family is a saving grace, my kids especially.
 
Son of Werdum said:
My Lifelong Battle With Suicide and Depression.
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That was a good write up. Unfortunately many people are not going to read it because it was too long. It is surprising that someone with such gifts in high school would have a depression and suicide issue. Now, imagine what the 'nerds' and those that got bullied in school must have gone through. Nothing like being at the top of the food chain.

Concern about depression, suicide, and COVID-19 deaths is interesting because no one gives two-shits about the 25 U.S. veterans that are committing suicide every day. That is about 9,000 veterans a year. A good number of them never deployed or saw combat. These individuals had mental issues prior to joining the military.

Severe depression and thoughts of suicide are due to a chemical imbalance in your brain. This can be treated with medication. I had experience with both during junior high and later as an adult after leaving the military and a divorce. Therapy never did anything for me, but the drugs did work up to a point. I had to find purpose in life and a passion. For me, that came in the form of rescuing abused animals and working with their rehabilitation. Humans are capable of creating an immense amount of pain, suffering, and death to other humans and animals. Thankfully there are more good people than bad in this world. Good luck...
 
Son of Werdum said:
I can honestly say I have lived one of the most privileged lives I can for the position I was born in. I am 32 now and the only deaths I have experienced were a friend's wife and my childhood dog. Never abused, never bullied, family stayed together, went to one of the best school systems in California.

I once got a fortune cookie that said "God favors you especially!" If it wasn't for my depression I would swear that is absolutely true in every way.
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For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Unfortunately it seems to be true about everything, including our lives.
 
Fox by the Sea said:
depression hits the emotionally weak.
if you did not have such a good life, you would have grown some toughness on you
no wonder all these rich countries are full of miserable people
when all you have to worry about is what iphone you will buy next, yeah, life is pretty meaningless
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This is bullshit. Australian aboriginals have thoroughly shit lives and they have a massive rate of suicide.
 
Fox by the Sea said:
You don't know shit.
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Interesting, you sound like you come from a position of authority on the subject. Ever heard of the song "Gloomy Sunday" or were you aware that suicide was actually the honourable thing to do in Japan. You are clearly just an arse hat, how bout you fuck right off with that shit, unless you have something intelligent to say.
 
Son of Werdum said:
[Part 2]

My parents now lived in Los Angeles so I was staying with a friend and his family in Sacramento. I started working again and going back to my life of hanging out with friends and such. I also started training in BJJ and MMA. I did very well in the gym and fought an amateur fight that I won. But by now my urge to kill myself was constant. Every tall building I saw I pondered if I could find a way to jump off of. Every truck that passed I wanted to step in front of. While driving I constantly pondered driving off any cliff I saw or into any sufficiently thick tree. My friend's house I was staying at had exposed framing in the garage which I considered hanging myself on, but I didn't want to repay them for their hospitality by leaving my hanging corpse in the garage, and there was always the risk of one of them waking up and finding me. I noticed some trees in a park by a neighborhood elementary school with very thick and strong looking branches. It was also extremely dark at night and I figured if I went deep enough in late at night, no one would be able to see me hanging from the street until morning. One night after playing video games at a friend's house I noticed a strong looking length of rope in his garage as I was leaving. I picked it up and left. As it was already dark I finally made up my mind, this was going to be the night I went through with it. In my mind it was perfect, low chance of being seen, high chance of fatality, mostly painless, strong anchor point, strong rope and I would not have to worry about friends or family finding my corpse and traumatizing them.

I climbed the tree and tied the rope off to a large branch in the middle of the park and then around my neck. As I sat on the branch I was ready to go. I was in horrible, constant pain at this point. Nothing in life made me happy or felt rewarding. I did everything in life you are supposed to do to be happy and for me I got nothing in return. But as much as I wanted to die for years now I could never get the image out of my head of my mother's reaction to hearing the news. The heartbreak I would cause her for the rest of her life. The idea that no matter how much she loved and cared for me that it was not enough to make me happy. I couldn't leave her wondering if she was a bad parent for not being able to help me. As much as I wanted with every ounce of will in my body to not be alive anymore I just couldn't do it to her, I would just have to live a meaningless life of pain and keep up my cheerful exterior. My mother's love for me was literally they only thing that saved my life that night. I untied the rope and climbed down. I sat in the empty school and cried hysterically. Then I returned the rope back to my friend's garage and went home.

A couple weeks after that event I had a mental breakdown at work. Luckily I was alone when this happened but I literally froze up and started shaking uncontrollably. I called my boss and told him I had a medical emergency and he offered to take me to the hospital and I agreed. Luckily he never asked what was going on because I probably didn't have it in me to lie anymore. I went in and told them I was a danger to myself. They put my on a 5150 and sent me to the loony bin. My experience with the psychiatric facilities were extremely negative. They did not care to help one bit, no one even talked to us. They basically just fed us and medicated us, they put me on anti-depressants. Now let me just say that I am fundamentally against anti-depressants for many reasons which I will not go all into, but let me just say suicidal thoughts are one of the most common side effects. I knew I could avoid killing myself off them, I wasn't sure about on them. Despite my objections they basically told me they were not going to release me unless I took them. My hold was also extended to a 5250. All in all I believe I was institutionalized for about 10 days. I stopped taking the anti-depressants immediately after leaving.

After my release my depression started to ease. It would flair up occasionally for a few months here and there, at which point I would quit my job and stay with my parents for the duration, pretty much not leaving the house at all during the duration and sleeping up to about 20 hours a day. Still by this point I had basically resolved that I could not kill myself until my mom died. So my plan was to scrape by life until she eventually passed and then kill myself after. But life still went on, I kept hanging out with friends. I got another girlfriend and although we were together for a bit it was never anything close to love, even though I told her I loved her. I knew she was never going to help with my depression and I never even hinted at depression or suicide around her. I started smoking weed recreationally in my early 20's but I don't really feel like weed or booze have much to do with my depression. When it was the worst in the park I hadn't even got drunk or smoked pot at that time. Eventually I got a six figure job in the Bay Area. Although the money and freedom were nice I worked 60 hour weeks at a stressful job and slept mostly through the weekends. I also started drinking heavily around this time. Eventually the stress of my work and isolation started manifesting the thoughts of suicide again. Although the horrible depression never went away I had gone almost 5 years without seriously considering suicide (at least not daily). But driving over the Golden Gate constantly and through the coastal cliffs of that area I started to get images in my head of driving my work vehicle over the edge. These thoughts only got stronger and more frequent until I decided I needed a change and moved back home.

That is when things really changed for me. My parents now had custody of my 1 year old niece. That it it's own long story but the short of it is my sister is junkie trash and she couldn't take care of her. Well I instantly developed a deep love for not only her but my parental role. She has basically become like a daughter to me and I have seen her grow every step of the way. She is now 7 and just an amazing and talented little growing person. But it gave me the opportunity to be excited for the future again. The way I can influence and guide and teach her is something I never thought I would enjoy so much. I can give her all the best aspects of myself and there really are a lot of great things about myself. I can also help her defeat all the bad aspects of myself which may manifest in her at some point.

When I was young I always thought the romantic love of a woman would be the thing that fills in that missing piece in me and gives me something to live for. Really it is the familial love for my mother and niece that are the only things that kept me from finding another tree and finishing the job.

I know that was a brutally long read but I hope at least someone enjoys this. I am normally a pretty huge troll but I'm trying to be as serious and honest as possible about a very difficult topic which still effects me and the person I became profoundly. I do want to clarify, though that I didn't really BEAT my depression and suicidal thoughts, I just learned to live with them and found my reasons not to act on them.
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Have you ever experimented with drugs? Sometimes they can have long lasting positive effects by giving you a hyper-normal sense of happiness that would frankly be impossible. Just stay away from booze with a 100 foot pole if you're depressed
 
Thanks for the words TS
They were a compelling read.
I wish you all the best. I'm going to look forward to noticing your posts from here on, cos I'll know they mean you are still trucking on!
 
General_Speckz said:
You seem to have some contradictions in here. You're saying anti-depressants lead to higher rates of suicide, but you're also saying that people want to commit suicide for the problem that anti-depressants "mask", and let's face it "mask" is basically "solve" -- If eating "masks" the feeling created in your brain from the feeling of hunger -- it solves it. So, if the problem isn't the brain chemistry, what is it? And, if it is partially the brain chemistry, why shouldn't a person explore anti-depressants as a potential (partial) solution? You will say, "Because it increases suicide rates". Ok, but what about a person's specific situation. If they're young, full of hormones, existential angst.... okay. But, if they're older, a bit more accepting of life's perils, maybe it's what the doctor ordered?

Honestly, looking at your life it's like your sister and you chose extreme ways to live. You did "everything you were supposed to", she did "what made her feel good". Maybe having more balanced lives such that you do some things you're supposed to and some things that make you feel good is the answer - depending on the context of the situation.

Looking at family history, we inherent all sorts of traits genetically and epigenetically. Some of these can be changed in a lifetime, some of them, and the amount of them that need to be changed are impossible for one person to master during that time. If you have a host of relatives who had addiction problems (and let's face it, most of us do) it seems entirely possible (lol, roe hogan) that living a "supposed to" life would be fraught with difficulty. Then to take that scenario and to hamstring it by swearing off anti-depressants, which seems very in line with brain chemistry issues, I'm very questioning of the logic.

Helping others does seem to be the point of it all. But, I wonder, why you didn't consider helping the other person in your relationships and get some form of satisfaction just like with your niece? Maybe you aren't emotionally attracted to the type of woman you've been pursuing? Just some thoughts Sherbro.
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I appreciate the analytical method of trying to understand my logic, to be fair I cannot explain it fully especially with regards to my views on anti-depressants and really fleshing out those ideas would take another post about as long as the OP.

The short of it would be that I believe anti-depressants are far overprescribed and often a case where the cure is worse than the disease. One just has to look at the suicide rates of military veterans and the overzealous VA doctors who prescribe them like candy for soldiers suffering from PTSD.

I know I now have full control over my suicidal thoughts, even if it is a constant battle to maintain it is one I will win. If I didn't kill myself before the birth of my niece I could never do it now while she still lives. But anti-depressants modify the brain chemistry, personality, and thought in sometimes radical ways. I do not know if they would help or hurt ultimately if I stayed on them. But the risk of having them negatively effect me and committing suicide far outweigh the benefit of possible being truly happy in life.
 
Cool Hand Luke said:
Some people are just not cut out for life.
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I really do agree with this. It's pretty bleak but I truly believe it.

Despite this I am here whether I want to be or not. And I can't take my own life without hurting those who have cared the most for me in my life.

My family and especially my niece have seen VERY little of my underlying issues, and I will keep it that way. It is my burden to bear and it would be unfair for me to ask others to help carry such a load.
 
SamuraiJack said:
If you agree that helping others is a big part of happiness then you have to acknowledge that people with depression aren't totally helpless.

I'm not offering a panacea that will magically cure depression. As you've said in other threads, this is, at its core, an issue with brain chemistry. But to say that people suffering from depression are 'helpless' simply isn't true; it denies the work of brilliant psychologists like B.F. Skinner & Victor Frankl and it also denies thousands of amazing success stories over the years.

Even people with severe clinical depression are able to make major progress with various tools. This is a documented fact; every year people with depression are able to take strides in dealing with their illness that is more productive than they could have previously imagined. Not a cure, but enormous improvement. As you say, the most severely afflicted always have to be concerned about relapse. But 'live with the affliction the best you can' offers a lot more promise than you're letting on.
Click to expand...

Helping others can help but not in a way that can be called on indiscriminately. For example, I have always been a very generous and helpful person and have helped a lot of friends and family in my life. I can spend all day helping a lady friend and her mom move and not feel a shred of a reward. I can go volunteer at a homeless shelter or talk to others suffering similar afflictions and not feel one ounce of joy despite possibly saving a life. I could not just go and CREATE a situation that would cause me to care, I just had to basically soldier on and wait til one basically fell into my lap that actually gave me happiness.

I have certainly improved and live a much better life than I did in my early 20's. So no, you are not truly "helpless" in every situation but say if my mother died in my teens there would have been literally NOTHING anyone could say or do that could've kept me alive.
 
Lubaolong said:
Curious where you were hospitalized and if they diagnosed you with a personality disorder.
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Telecare Placer County Psychiatric Health Facility

I'm not sure if they ever formally diagnosed me with anything on paper. When discussing my medication they told me I suffered from bipolar disorder and depression, but they would have basically been guessing as no one really ever even asked me why I was there. Told the doctor danger to myself, he sent me off to the loony bin, they looked at the chart, saw "danger to myself" and decided to dope me up without even talking to me.
 
Bballfan123 said:
Have you ever experimented with drugs? Sometimes they can have long lasting positive effects by giving you a hyper-normal sense of happiness that would frankly be impossible. Just stay away from booze with a 100 foot pole if you're depressed
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In my life I have done:

Alcohol
Weed
Salvia 2x
Cocaine 2x
Ecstasy 4x
Mushrooms 1x

I enjoyed my harder drug trips but also didn't like how they made me feel during the comedowns. I enjoyed the party drugs more than the hallucinogens but ultimately hard drug use is not for me. Heard good things about LSD but I just don't feel comfortable doing something so powerful that lasts so long with my psyche. It would either be REALLY good or REALLY bad and I just can't afford what might happen if it goes bad.
 
Stories like your just reminds me that you never really know what's going on in someones life and the shit they have to deal with. Whether emotional, mental or physical. I come on Sherdog for the laughs and MMA updates; to enjoy myself. So whenever I see a poster I just think of them as that, someone with a similar interest that posts on this forum. That's it.

but...

Time to time you get personal posts like this and it opens your eyes. I'm glad you shared this with us.
 
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