So you might ask what qualifies me to create a site about suicide? Well, perhaps like you, I had a number of times in my life where I spent hours, and days, trawling through the web for information on how to best kill myself. On the outside, people would describe me as a pretty normal type of guy. Loving family, good job, success at my pastimes, including national championships at softball and dancing. Good friends, nice flat, classy car, financially secure, tall and in great physical shape. On the face of it, probably the last person you’d think would want to kill themselves. But as you’ll probably know, what people see on the outside, and what goes on inside, are often very different…..
In 2002, after already suffering from depression for a couple of years and having thought about, and planned, suicide a few times, I had a disastrous relationship which ended just after my 34th birthday. I felt there was no joy left in my life, never would be, and my work colleagues, family and friends could all cope quite well without me. I had nothing left I wanted to live for, and felt there never would be.
I hadn’t managed to get hold of any lethal barbiturates, but had a decent stock of sleeping pills obtained specifically for killing myself. So on Sunday 2 November 2002, having already written and printed my suicide note and got all my financial affairs in order, I went out to buy some Vodka to wash the pills down with. I came home, laid out the tamazepam on the table, then with no hesitation, took every pill I had.
Knowing that the pills alone would not be enough to kill me, I had a black rubbish bag and tape at the ready. I laid down on my bed, and calmly tried to tape the bag around my head. One problem though – I didn’t want to feel like I was suffocating! I wanted to pass out then suffocate. Painless. And while I was fiddling around trying to get enough air in the bag to not suffocate, I passed out.
I woke up I don’t know how many hours later – it was still light on the same day. Still can’t believe I did not stay asleep for longer. I remember throwing up from the Vodka (wasn’t a drinker, although maybe it was the quantity of pills), feeling like shit, and being bitterly disappointed I was still alive.
So, with my sleeping pill stash finished, the next best option seemed to be to find a building taller than 10 stories to jump off. Found a block of flats, but no roof access! So went to a nearby hotel which must have been at least 15 stories high. But again, roof access locked. And no windows in the stairwell opened. So I was standing there, in there stairwell, wondering how the hell I could find a window that would open, when my sister rang. She asked if I’d come over and watch a DVD with my niece. Didn’t want to, but she talked me round – maybe she sniffed the depression in my voice. In the company of family, the hold that suicide had over me was broken. Which just shows how powerful it can be speaking to someone when you are on the verge.
This site is being built close to seven years after that day. I can’t say that in the intervening period I have never felt suicidal again, as I have – many times. My Will has been revised and financial affairs tidied many times. I got a new stash of Tamazepam from a doctor in Australia who did not know of my suicidal exploits, but I knew that to do a good job of killing myself, I really needed to have the guts to shoot, hang or gas myself, throw myself under a train, or find some good barbiturates.
Even within the last couple of years I tried to get hold of some seconal, but my efforts came to nothing. Then I did a course, Broadband Consciousness, and was posed the question: “what do I have to do to feel enough”. I’d tried sport. No amount of wins seemed to do the trick – not even winning national or international competitions. I tried dancing. Same story. Career? I had always done well at work, but it was not enough. Charity work? Truth was, whatever I did, or donated, I felt I was playing small and should be doing more…..
Then I had a moment of clarity. It did not matter what I achieved; how successful the charity work; how good a relationship I had. It would NEVER be enough. It was put to me that no amount of achieving, or doing, would ever make me feel like I was enough. What I needed to realise was that I am enough as I am. And boy, does that line of thinking relieve a lot of pressure.
And it was suggested that maybe I should be helping people that have been suicidal like I was, and, with thanks to Richard Wilkins and Liz Ivory for the idea, the concept of Lost All Hope was born.
This paragraph used to talk about how to make life worthwhile – something I am sure we have all contemplated. Why live? Why, when it feels so terrible??? I used to talk about helping people as a reason to live. Which it can be, and it can be so easy to make a difference to someone else – as easy as speaking to someone. But after a few years running this site, and having read so many of your emails and feedback, all I can tell you is that uniting factor of people that visit this site is a lack of love and connection in their lives.
On one level it is so simple, on another, so, so difficult. I was surrounded by people, good people. Family and old friends. Yet could not feel connected to them. I was emotionally repressed, and depressed. Years later I am just starting to learn what I wish I could have learnt when I was young. To be proud of who I am – with all the scars and insecurities; be able to say what I want – and be able to deal with not always getting it; to share with others how I am feeling. I never knew these would take years of effort to do, or how different I would feel when I started to do them. It’s a reason to live though.
So please, read on in this site starting with Help me.
September 2024 update
I am so sorry to followers of the site. It took me years to sort out putting the site onto a new platform. Before I even could do that the New Zealand government declared it to be a site that broke their laws and asked my web hoster to shut it down. Thank you so much to the person who managed to get a message to me to let me know that had happened – your message that I should be “ashamed of myself for shutting the site down” was the impetus to get everything sorted. Although I still have the Kiwi government to deal with!
My 7 ½ year relationship ended in January. About 6 years longer than my previous record! Arguably two years longer than may have been optimal. Her house refurb, then me buying one (she said my flat was two small for both of us!) and doing a rip and out and rebuild, then six months until we had no excuses and couldn’t seem to find common ground on what we wanted once our living situation was sorted.
At some level I am glad as I was not happy in that relationship. But I was (and still am) also sad it ended. When we didn’t have to resolve differences we got on very well, and loved each other. It is strange how something can feel so right it ended, yet still feel so sad. I am sure she will be happier with someone else, but then I thought that for years before the end happened. Only took my ex 6 months to find a new boyfriend.
I am back dating too, and that is hard work. All the disappointment of meeting someone you think you connect with, to then have to cope with them not feeling the same. Expectation then disappointment. The grind of going through profiles, messaging them, hopefully getting into text exchange, which can end at any time. Meeting up, hoping if you like them they will be up for a second date. Being ready to cope with it not going further. It is like sales. You need to be thick skinned, motivated, and have perseverance. I am sure many readers will understand what I am talking about. But I soldier on, and hope I will have good news to report eventually.
Many years ago I used to look forward to the summer. Better weather, more to do, outdoor sports. Now the summer feels like a period to get through. Work goes quiet. I have too much time on my hands. Which brings me on to the shadow – that cloud of depression that seems to follow me around everywhere. The only question is how far away from me it is. Sometimes it barely feels there. Other times, like now and over the summer, I feel enveloped, with no hope of change. I mostly do only the things I have to. I work, yoga, some minimum social engagements. But there is nothing I want to do. That I feel like I enjoy. Fun. Life is just a bloody struggle, and I am guessing you will probably feel the same if you are reading this.
I just don’t feel like I want to do anything. It’s really hard, and I do find I retire to my bed to just shut down in overwhelm and sleep. Life for me is only manageable with a structure that keeps me busy every minute of every day with things I have to do, or committed to do. Give me space and choice of what I want to do, and I fall apart. Which is why I can’t face going on holiday – there’s nowhere I want to go, and nothing I want to do!
22 years after trying to kill myself, it’s still there. Probably a bit better at managing it than all that time ago. But still in therapy, and taking anti depressants. The constant fight to stave it off gets tiring. Also, as I get older, I feel like I am running out of time to enjoy life, before I will look back and feel like it was all a waste. Obviously I am feeling very positive this morning!
Finally, sorry I have not updated the site as much as I had hoped to. I just can’t find the motivation to do it these days. But at least I have the site on a new platform, and new blogs posted. There may be some links that don’t work – will try and sort them. I have a house now instead of my flat. That was an achievement. I’m still alive, and learnt a lot from my long relationship. Their is some hope that will mean I can be happier with my next relationship. I will keep you posted.
Please read on in this site, starting with Help me.
Or read about other peoples’ experiences after visiting this site in Your stories.
To read more about my journey, see my previous updates on my blog.