Help Me...Please.

Second, sadly, no, you could not have saved him. After the love of my life killed himeself last October, a friend of mine told me a story about a childhood fried who did the same, some 30 years ago. My friend's dad was consoling him and asked "Do you think there was anything you could have done to drive him to this?" No, he answered. "Then there's nothing you could have done to stop him."

I'm so sorry this happened to you, and I know exactly how you feel. Personally, I was angry. Very, very angry... my words at his funeral reflected that (I even wrote a blog about it here on ProgU). I knew he was messed up, but after everything that he had done and said when I was in a similar place, I felt betrayed. I've since realized that he hadn't planned it, and that by the time he realized he had pulled the trigger, he was sorry but it was too late.

This is not something that is easy to deal with, but you can deal with it... even if that means you burst into tears sporadically for the next year and a half... or more. But the best way to honor the life of this person that you love is to live well.

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If I had had more time I would have written less. -- Thomas Jefferson

RachelSetzer.com

I simply can't imagine the pain you're going through. I hope Setzer and others have blessed you in their reply.

I think I have an answer, however, to why we put more special attention to whales, etc. A whale is something different, an escape of perspective. It can't talk back or respond humanly, so no one is upset at whales. Because of its silence, it brews drama, and that drama brews attachment. This is a constant effect.

You first boyfriend has talked, manifesting human emotions and
situations that lead to a break-up. This is completely natural. It is sad to see the attachment break, therefore, your communication. All in all, you will reconcile with this tragedy
and realize it is not your fault

I don't know about the circumstances of your friend's suicide, but I have lost two friends to suicide. In both of these instances everybody was quite shocked and were left searching aimlessly for answers or reasons as neither left a note.

I was one of those people trying to come up with answers, as there was nothing that stood out as a conclusive reason that either would kill themselves. It wasn't until I suffered a bout of depression that lasted for three years, and managed to recover from it that their deaths began to make sense.

When you suffer from proper depression you lose all perspective on just about everything. Everything seems pointless, you feel worthless and every time somebody tries to tell you otherwise, you feel like they've bought into some sort of lie, like you've conned them with smoke and mirrors.

I think people close to others who are suffering from depression, or those who commit suicide, inevitabley end up racked with guilt or driven to dispair looking for answers largely because in many instances there are no reasonable explanations. The mind of somebody in the depths of depression is unreasonable.

Depressed people often do not necessarily want people to know they are depressed, so many tend to put on a front when dealing with others, even close friends. I wasn't singing and dancing around telling everybody I was depressed, I was deeply ashamed of it, I hid it. This is usually the reason friends are left feeling hurt or that they could have helped the sufferer if only they'd been given the chance.

You often have to look very closely at somebody and spend a lot of time around them to spot somebody who is deeply depressed and even if you do spot it and confront them about it, you have to be prepared to face outright denial.

The fact that Gary, prior to his suicide, was so ambitious and driven, could have been a contributing factor in his suicide. For somebody who is strong and optimistic to be struck with depression, it is crushing. This largely comes down to the fact that they feel like complete failures under the spell depression casts as a result of the standards they previously held themselves to before the sickness.

With depression you feel weak and helpless, you feel apathetic. Basically you become something you dispise. Your tormentor is your own mind and it knows all the sore spots to take stabs at, going so far as to actively combat the efforts of others to help. For somebody with a strong self-image and a highly motivated nature to be stripped of all pride and worth can simply be too much to bear.

Pride, shame and a loss of perspective and identity can push some people over the edge. When you are a guy this can often be compounded through the fact that many of us are very slow to ask for help with anything and the fact that most of us live under this societal expectation that we be strong or at least give the impression that we are even if we are dying inside. Women are far more likely to confide in friends or just ask for help. Men are far more likely to feel like they don't deserve it.

I don't know if any of this helps, I hope it does, but it's just my two cents from my own experience.
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I am the people my mother warned me about.

Well, I could actually say a lot, but I think maybe its better to just tell you one thing, and let you think about that. If you need a therapist, well I'm no professional, but I am willing to listen and like to think I'm pretty good at helping people. (I've done alright in the past) But on to what I have to say.

People/society has come a long way. Remember that when it looks like theres no good. Remember that not too long ago gays couldn't come out. Addicts couldn't get help, and it was seen as there problem. Alcoholism is a new "disease". We now have all kinds of pills for the depressed. We have suicide hotlines now. Rape is actually a treated like a crime these days. Females are the majority at college.

Yeah, none of its perfect, but I must admit (even a synic and pestimest like me) that the world we live in has come a long way.

bless your heart my dear.

I'm really glad that you asked for help and didn't keep this bottled up like a pressure-cooker ready to explode.

Really, deep down, people do care about each other, I believe. Sometime we are afraid of being hurt and rejected, so we play it safe and only reach out to animals(they're safer) .

"What's disturbing is that he went to a bar I used to work at, asked about me and then was found that night having put a bullet through his head.

So, if I had been there, could I have saved him?

Or would he have taken me with him?

Therein lies my problem."

You know, I have heard of this sort of thing happening to people. So thank God that you are with us still; not knowing for sure and all...

"Everyone that should have been there for him when he needed us."
Don't blame yourself. Do you think he would want you to blame yourself for his death? No way!

And thank the good Lord that you have been blessed with a special man in your life now. He needs you. All husbands are really 4 year-olds who shave!!

Really, though, I believe that the storm raging through your life right now will be a tough one to weather. It can make a person better or bitter to go through this sort of trial; it ultimately is going to be a choice you have to make.

I have tried suicide myself, and I remember just feeling completely emotionally overwhelmed at the times(two attempts). I used pills and alcohol once and prescription pain pills the second time. Decided after spending the night in the hospital the second time vomiting up stomach lining that I couldn't try that again.

I read a book that helped me get through some tough times and it might really be interesting to you. It is called , "Battlefield of the Mind" by Joyce Meyer. She has a website, but you can get her books at Walmart too. There's some other good books out there as well that have helped me to come out of depression. And chocolate always helps too! But these are just a few of my "anchors"; the most important anchor that I have found is actually my relationship with Christ. Once I finally found out that He is real, I've never let go!

I feel very bad about your ex-boyfriend but there is a possibility that you nor anyone else could have helped him. It sucks to think of the fact of how a great portion of our world has stopped caring about their fellow man. I wish that people could look at other countries (ie Canada) that yes have higher taxes but have better health care and take care of their people. Who knows that if the future will bring us a better outlook. One of the great ways for this world to change will be if we can stop or slow down the amount that kids spend playing video games or computer games. I mean if you think that people don't care about others now wait until the generation that really worship Grand Theft Auto are in their 20s.

It is heartbreaking, and it is life-shattering to lose someone so close to you without a single word of warning. While psychiatric terminology and the endless consolation of friends and family alter your feeling of helplessness in a miniscule, if any way, you will eventually come to terms with that there truly is nothing that you could possibly have done to save your dear friend from himself.

What is almost equally as heartbreaking is that, had he asked for help from anyone but close friends or family, he would most likely not have recieved it. I agree thouroughly with Boo- the Grand Theft Auto generation is coming, desensitization, disregard for morals and all. On one hand there stands the question- can the lack of compassion and empathy get much worse than it is at present? But on the other hand is the intense fear of the answer to that question being yes.

When I was 12, I was super close to a guy 5 years older than myself. He was taking PCP and I hated him for it. One night, we fought over and I told him to go to hell before slamming the phone down. I eventually calmed down and went to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night to learn that he had driven himself into a light pole, no seat belt on. He didn't survive.

Four years ago, I was in bed, passed out from the pain meds I been given from surgery just a few days before. I thought my sister had the television blaring and I called for her to turn it down. She didn't answer and the noise didn't stop. I dragged myself out of my bed and walked right into hell. My house was full of paramedics and police officers. She had tried to kill herself by overdosing and had left a note for friends online. Someone read it and got a hold of a friend who knew where we lived. He called 911. They were able to save her, but we sat in ICU for days, terrified out of our minds waiting for all the tests to come back on how much damage was done to her organs, beating ourselves up that we hadn't seen it. Over those few days, people we had never spoken too that she had talked to online regularly called, emailed, and cried alongside us. Everyone thought they should have known something was wrong, should have been able to do something. I didn't eat. Didn't sleep.

We finally got her out of ICU and to a mental health clinic. While she was there, I was faced with a new twist to those same guilty feelings that had plagued me for nearly 7 years; my own sister that lived in my house, that I was responsible for (she was a minor) had tried to end her life. Why didn't I see it? Why didn't I know?

And at some point all the crying and screaming and asking those questions flipped on the lightbulb. There was nothing there that I could have seen. Either time.

Nathaniel and I were close and I thought I knew everything about him. What I didn't know was that he had been battling depression quietly for years. He laughed at all the right things, smiled at all the right times. And made a damn good actor when it came to making others believe that he loved life. When it got too hard, he started the PCP because he knew it would throw us all off from the real problem.

Sis was much the same. She laughed and smiled at all the right things and put on a damn good show. And we all fell for it, just like she (or the depression) wanted us too.

We can blame ourselves and we will. But the fault lies with that all consuming disease that led them down that path. Depression doesn't make sense. It doesn't follow any particular pattern. Sometimes, there is simply nothing there to see because the person suffering doesn't want you to see it. It consumes you and leaves no room to ask for help. You become so busy being an actor and fighting the despair that's drowning you that somewhere along the way, you forget that you can be okay again. You accept the lies depression whisper to you; that you're worthless, that everyone is better off without you, that there is no helping you.

From talking with sis, I know she doesn't blame me for not seeing it or being able to stop it. I imagine Gary would tell you the same were he there to say it. You couldn't have stopped it because the fault was never yours.

Hang in there dear. And if you need a shoulder, an ear, or anything, you have my info and I will be there.

"If knowledge can create problems, it is not through ignorance that we can solve them." Isaac Asimov

"Fight for your opinions, but do not believe that they contain the whole truth, or the only truth." Charles Dana