TheBanyanTree: Understanding Suicide

[Monique Colver]

Well, you can't really understand it unless you've felt it. It's one of
those that can't be understood unless you have.

And I would never want you to know that feeling, so it's good with me that
you don't understand. Very good. I would like for no one to understand how
it feels. I'd prefer everyone just rant about how selfish it is!

Ash has been stuck to my side all afternoon, a furry little connection to
the outside world that hangs on to me and doesn't let me be alone.

He's sound asleep of course. Very sound asleep. It's very cute.




*We appreciate your referrals!*

Monique Colver
Colver Business Solutions
www.colverbusinesssolutions.com
monique.colver at gmail.com
(425) 772-6218


On Wed, May 7, 2014 at 4:14 PM, Pam Lawley <pamj.lawley at gmail.com> wrote:

> Your subject led me to believe that I would understand suicide...  but I
> don't.  I don't understand it, or depression - and I've dabbled in
> depression a bit myself through the years!
>
> I am a 'fixer'.  If there was ever a middle child to be called a fixer, I
> feel sure that it's ME!  When I walk up to a counter that has cards or
> flyers on it, I inevitably will straighten them so that all the corners are
> aligned and even and perfect.  I don't even have to consciously make a
> decision to do it!   This is because, as a child, if I could hear my dad
> downstairs in a rant, I would start straightening and 'fixing' things to
> make them absolutely perfect so it wouldn't be the 'thing' that would set
> him off, and perhaps be cause for a smack or punch.
>
> Now, as an adult, nothing has changed.  If somebody is sad or bummed or
> angry, I want to make it all better!  'Here's some cookies - smile!'
> 'Here's a fill-in-the-blank that I know you love - feel better!!!!!'  And
> we KNOW that doesn't work but at least it's SOMETHING to do!!  Because
> while I don't understand suicide and depression, neither do I understand
> how I'm supposed to just stand there and let you be sad and do nothing to
> FIX it!!!
>
> It makes ME feel helpless and useless - even though it is *not* all about
> ME!!!!
>
> What I do understand though is that you're a person I love and admire.  And
> I hope you understand that I'm here if you need me!  (or cookies!)  :-)
>
>
> On Wed, May 7, 2014 at 6:59 PM, Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com
> >wrote:
>
> > The other day I said to Mr C, “Remember when I used to be funny?”
> >
> > “You’re still funny sometimes,” he replied, being the proper husband that
> > he is, always supportive.
> >
> > I miss me being funny. I miss me being on top of my game. So far this
> year
> > I haven’t been particularly funny, except for the odd moment now and
> then,
> > and I haven’t been on top of my game. I’ve been underneath it, crawling
> > around in the sub-basement. I can barely see the stairs from here
> > sometimes. It’s frustrating because they’re right there, over on the
> right,
> > around the corner, and there’s light at the top of the stairs. But I
> can’t
> > get my fat ass over to the bottom of the stairs to start the climb up.
> >
> > And I think I can climb up. I think if I can reach the bottom, I can pull
> > myself up the stairs.
> >
> > But damn. This year.
> >
> > I’m not suicidal. For one thing, I don’t have a plan. For another thing,
> it
> > seems like a lot of work. For another thing, I couldn’t do that to Mr C
> and
> > Ash, because they didn’t ask for this, and they are here for me, every
> day,
> > even when I’m not.
> >
> > But I understand it. I understand the pain that allows someone to think
> > there is no other option, and I understand the depths of the isolation,
> > isolation that may not be real. It is in our minds, but in our minds can
> be
> > a terrible place to be when it’s not functioning properly.
> >
> > When I read of a suicide I also, inevitably, read a comment (I do try not
> > to go there, because if there’s one thing that can make me lose hope in
> > humanity, the comments section can do it) that says how selfish suicide
> is,
> > how stupidly selfish.
> >
> > And I am happy that the person who wrote that doesn’t know the pain that
> > comes with that sort of mind numbing depression, and I am angry that they
> > are so callous. It is a deep deep pain that brings about suicide, and
> > solving it isn’t like a jigsaw puzzle where you can just put the pieces
> > together and have a whole because some of the pieces are missing, and no
> > matter where you look, you can’t find them.
> >
> > Anyway, what’s wrong with being selfish? I’ve been told that I’m selfish
> > because I don’t have children, which is just silly because me with
> children
> > would be totally selfish. Who would do that to a child? I like children
> too
> > much for that.
> >
> > That may be beside the point, but you see that little kernel of truth
> lying
> > in there?
> >
> > Look, I would love to stop talking about myself. I would love to have my
> > moments of happiness, my moments of work, my moments of connection, my
> > moments of making a difference. I know all the words, I know how I’m
> > supposed to feel, and I know the problem is with me. I would love to talk
> > about you, and not have a thought for me and my depression and my panic.
> > That bad feeling in my chest, the sort-of achy, sort of ice in my veins
> > feeling that ties me up in knots so I can’t think properly are seriously
> > things I can do without. They do not add to my quality of life and they
> do
> > not get me invited to parties.
> >
> > “It’s a choice,” some people say, as if we hadn’t thought of that, as if
> > this is somehow intentional, and if only we were better at not being so
> > selfish we would do that. Oh, yes, we hadn’t thought of that. We have
> > techniques to keep the darkness away, but sometimes it slips past our
> > defenses and settles in, like a cat finding a sunny spot to sleep in, but
> > it’s not as easy to dislodge as a sleeping cat. A cat I could nudge, and
> it
> > would stretch, and maybe move. (I don’t have cats so I don’t know exactly
> > what it would do. I imagine it depends on the cat.) I keep nudging the
> > darkness and telling it to go away, that I don’t have time for this. I’m
> so
> > not in the mood for the darkness. Sometimes I push at it really hard, and
> > it acts as if it’s going away, but it doesn’t go far enough away.
> >
> > I want to be funny again. I want to be smart again. Or at least
> reasonably
> > intelligent. Look, I don’t need to be a genius. I have a great life, and
> > I’m really pissed that I’m not enjoying it a lot more. My husband
> deserves
> > better than this. (This is the slippery slope that can lead one to
> consider
> > suicide as an option by the way – we might think we’re doing our loved
> ones
> > a favor. We’re wrong, of course, but we don’t know that when we’re
> thinking
> > it.)
> >
> > I’m sick of talking about myself and my damn feelings. Please talk about
> > you. Tell me what you’re doing, how the kids are, what the family’s up
> to,
> > how work’s going. Tell me all your stories, fill up that empty space with
> > your words, help me regain my connection to a world that I feel I’ve lost
> > touch with. Help me back from the abyss.
> >
> > And I swear I’ll make you laugh again.
> >
> > M
> >
>