I’ve known people who have committed suicide.
I know many people who have had loved ones commit suicide.
This is for them. And anyone else who’s lost someone to suicide.
A lot of religions teach that anyone who commits suicide automatically goes to hell.
I don’t believe that.
These are just my personal beliefs. They are not the official position of the Church.
The God of the Universe is our Heavenly Father.
He loves us more than we can comprehend.
He knows us better than we can imagine.
He can’t ignore the wrong things we do.
But he is as kind and merciful as he can be.
Most people don’t commit suicide maliciously.
They’re hurting. They don’t believe they’re going to stop hurting.
They don’t see another way out.
I’m not saying they’re right. There’s always a way out. Sometimes the only way out is through.
I’m just saying they did what they thought they had to do.
Condemning others is not our responsibility. Nor is it our privilege.
Judgment belongs only to One.
That’s not you.
It’s not me either.
I thank God for that.
I have a love/hate relationship with my antidepressant.
I forgot to take it yesterday.
Today I feel really dizzy. Confused. Irritable.
When I take them I don’t feel suicidal. At all. Ever.
I can’t put a price on that.
Before I’d have a fight with my wife. I’d leave. I’d think about ways to kill myself. I’d cry a lot.
I don’t have to deal with that anymore.
I hate that it takes a drug not to feel that way.
I hate that my doctor will only give me a three-month supply.
I hate that he demands that I make another office visit before he’ll give me more.
That doesn’t feel like freedom.
It feels like slavery.
I’ve thought about just quitting.
I tried it once. I went three days without it.
I was okay for a while. The last day I had a meltdown.
I was on a lower dose at the time.
I’ve thought about gradually reducing my dose. That’s what I’ll do when I decide to stop.
I think I need to wait until after my wife moves out with the boys.
I might even need a higher dose to get through that.
I hate this.
A lot of people know that Ernest Hemingway killed himself.
Not as many people know that his father also killed himself.
So did his son.
Many times the children of people who commit suicide go on to commit suicide themselves. That’s not what I want for my boys.
I love this comic by LunarBaboon.
I know my kids need me.
I grew up without a dad. I don’t want my kids to have to go through that.
I want to see them grow up and have kids of their own.
I want to give them the best life I can.
I can’t do that if I’m dead.
Last Thursday I blew up at my wife.
She was filing for divorce online and asking me questions.
I got irritated and eventually exploded. I said a lot of hurtful things that I regret.
At one point I thought about killing myself. I hadn’t thought about that for a long time.
Eventually I calmed down and apologized.
Later I realized I wasn’t as okay with the divorce as I had thought.
Part of me was still hoping she’d change her mind.
I try to be optimistic. I tell myself the future can be better than the present.
Sometimes it’s hard though.
Yesterday morning I was watching old family videos.
Wife and kids happy.
Now it’s coming to an end. That makes me feel depressed.
I wish I could go back and fix it. But I can’t.
I used to think about killing myself a lot. I’d have a fight with my wife and think “I can’t take this anymore!”
I rarely have those thoughts anymore. They still show up occasionally, though.
Therapy helps. Anti-depressants help. Thinking about how I can improve helps.
I still get depressed.
I don’t want to get divorced. It doesn’t seem like I have a choice, though.
But I can’t give up on life.