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27 years ago...I took my life with a rifle.
Ms Sans Serif
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[quote:AAONMS 25757891:MV8yMTEwNzI0XzM1NTg0MTM5XzVDNDgzNzY0] [quote:warrior poet:MV8yMTEwNzI0XzM1NTgzODIxX0Q5OEU4RDIx] [quote:The Quiet One:MV8yMTEwNzI0XzM1NTgzNTc5X0EyRkE2MjA1] I do not what to say. My brother committed suicide by gunshot to face on January 6, 2011. The people he left behind will never be the same. I am SO GLAD you survived to tell your story. I am a bit overwhelmed right now reading your story. Stay strong. [/quote] I am sorry for your brother's loss of life...and it's not a pat response. Truly. There was an overwhelming push to silence what happened to me. The small town where I grew up was told, it was an accidental discharge. I was told to keep quiet about it. 1 year after my shooting, a fellow classmate shot and killed himself. My vice principal shot himself as well both died. Each shooting left me reeling in my own moment. I saw the flash, heard the roar and felt the implosion. I suffered with survivors guilt for years. I struggled with society and their stigma surrounding it. No one cared to understand why I pulled the trigger. They hit the suicide curtain and that was it, no more reason or compassion. I shared this story 6 months after the shooting. It was a sports bible camp. They had a microphone night. They said, "Hey campers if God has worked in a mighty way in your life come and share." I listened to the other kids share their stories and anecdotes: God helped me with peer pressure, study for a test, win a game etc etc. I thought, "Hey I bet they want to hear what God did for me...I should've died. I prayed for God to deliver my life with an Angel, and boy I am still alive and thankful to him..." I got up and delivered that story. I think I made it back to my seat before the room irrupted in applause, cheers and hugs. Kids confessed to me, they were suicidal. I took them to their sponsors and the sponsor was shocked and dumbfounded. The kids got help. They were pen pals for months after. I repeated this at a few more camps over the span of 18 months. One day...I was pulled aside and told, "You can't share this anymore." It was to sensitive and controversial. I had been censored. I was once suicidal. I once tried to take my life and for a few moments in time, succeeded. But, I saw the value in life. I was sorry and wanted my life back. God forgave and restored my life back to me. I pictured my life similar to the thief on the cross. While dying a violent death he pleaded for mercy and God responded. Likewise, He responded to my pleas. I should've died on that night 27 years ago. I don't totally remember how I got out of the woods. I don't know how my voice carried across the field. I don't know why my brother felt something pulling on his shirt and demanding he run towards the woods. I heard something speak to me that night in the woods. I felt it touch my body. It felt like being grounded on a live wire. I have had some people contact me and they told me they are alive today because of my interaction at community events. I set up a tent and chat with people, hand out bibles and mental health brochures etc. Trying to reach some that are despondent to the point of death [/quote] OP your story was very touching and moving. Thank you for sharing. I know how judgemental people can be. There have been three suicides from people I have known. I didnt happen to be close with any of them, but close enough and I saw at the funerals a deep sadness but also strangely anger by some who seemed to be hurt by what the victim did. How could a person be angry at the suicide victim?? I think that is terrible and very judgemental of people. [/quote]
Twenty seven years ago, at age 16. I took the end of a rifle and put it 1 inch from my heart and pulled the trigger.
Here on Jan 24th I will celebrate my 27th life anniversary.
I used to have a F/B account and wanted to acknowledge my upcoming anniversary but I discontinued my account two weeks ago (don't miss it). I started a suicide prevention page last year, I do miss the page but I left some admins behind to run it for me.
I suffered/suffer with debilitating bouts of depression. I grew up in an abusive home. On occasion I was hit until I bled and was blamed that the beatings...were my fault. I lived in fear for my life from the abuser. One night, when I was 14...the man stopped a truck in the middle of dark reasonably busy road. He turned out the lights on a blind curve, to yell at me for several minutes. I had a chainsaw swung at my head one afternoon. Locked in a bare room for days on end...it goes on. I tried for 7 months to reach out for help. I demonstrated many of the classic signs and symptoms of a suicidal person: I gave things away. I talked about no future...was obsessed with death. Cuts, bruises started to show up on my body. I even read an entry in an encyclopedia entry on suicide to see what I should be doing.
I finally gave into to suicide in June 1985. I made attempts at suicide from June to Jan. or "shows of suicide"... I made a pact with myself. I decided that between Jan 1- May 30...in 1986 I would shoot myself. I reached the resolution phase. The abuse at home was always bad over summer. I was safe in school or in public. The abuser was a high ranking police official. Because, i knew I was going to be dead I had no need for grades or school....my semester collapsed. Classes I typically maintained a passing grade...collapsed to failures. (Another sign something was wrong). I enjoyed my last Christmas. To this day Bruce Springstein's "Santa is Coming to Town" causes PTSD flashbacks. The song was played all the time on the radio a month before I shot myself.
On Jan 23, I brought home the worst grades ever. My step mother happened to catch a look at my brothers grades before mine. His grades weren't bad, but he had seen what happened to me growing up and he was afraid. My step mother warned me, "For your sake...your grades had better be better than this or I wouldn't put it past your father to hurt you."
I had my plan in place. I lied to her. I told her my grades were actually very good and I would have them for her on Monday. They were in my pocket. My exact thought..."It's time" My father got home and bought the lie as well. He gave me a very long list of chores to do for the next day. This list...like the report cards sealed my fate for the next day.
The next day Jan. 24th I got home from school. I set my plan into motion. I snuck a .22
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