suicide

I thought that when someone dies, a person changes. I thought you'd lose yoursense of being judged and caring about this judgement; I thought you'd hold life in thepalm of your hand and dance and water it with rain. I thought you'd be able to dance ina crowd and laugh. But I was wrong. I am insecure, more than I was before. I takethings for granted. I'm angry, mean, judgmental, critical, bitter and quick to assume. I am lethargic. I despise all around me. And then some days, I feel normal.

It will generally be found that as soon the terrors of live reach the point where they outweigh the terrors of death, a man will put an end to his life.

This is what happens to the brain of those living with mental illnesses (more accurately, "brain illnesses"). The brain does not function as it should; life is out of control. The brain alters our bodies; thoughts are distorted, emotions are unregulated, and behaviors we once thought could never occur happen. One of the most challenging, exhausting, and painful phenomena we do as humans is to live and survive with these changes in our minds. The toll it takes on an individual's body and the people in their lives is, tragically, often too much to bear.-Dr. Daniel J. Reidenberg

She didn__ want to die. She couldn__ imagine wanting to die_Death was for__or other people.

O my mistress, do not by any means destroy yourself, for if you live you may yet have good fortune but all the dead are dead alike!

The one who had not ever conceived his own annulment, who had not foreseen the resource of the cord, the bullet, the poison or the sea, is a debased prisoner or a crawling worm on the cosmic carrion. This world can take off us everything, it can forbid us everything, but nobody can't prevent us our self-abolition.

Today, take a pledge to love yourself. Do not cut, drown, get caught in the fire, or hang yourself. Reasons behind committing suicide can be cured!

we know God is dead, they_ toldus, but listening to you I wasn_ sure. maybeit was the upper case. you were one of thebest female poets and I told the publishers, editors, _ her, print her, she_ mad but she__agic. there_ no lie in her fire._ I loved youlike a man loves a woman he never touches, onlywrites to, keeps little photographs of. I would haveloved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling acigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom,but that didn_ happen. your letters got sadder.your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, alllovers betray. it didn_ help. you saidyou had a crying bench and it was by a bridge andthe bridge was over a river and you sat on the cryingbench every night and wept for the lovers who hadhurt and forgotten you. I wrote back but neverheard again. a friend wrote me of your suicide3 or 4 months after it happened. if I had met youI would probably have been unfair to you or youto me. it was best like this.

They came close. Oh they came close. Was all set to put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger. But there was a computer glitch. Isnt that something? A stupid glitch and I had to wait a few days and then I saw the errors of my ways, saw so clearly that I was killing the wrong person. Its not me that needs killing, its them. Funny how things can change in the wink of an eye.

What he knows now is that guilt isn__ the only reason people commit suicide. Sometimes you can just get bored with afternoon TV.

Those that have lost their lives to suicide were good people, who were in deep, deep pain. Keep speaking about mental illness and keep it out of the darkness.

I felt myself falling asleep; my eyes were closing, and then I thought, Maybe I should just kill myself. Suicidal thoughts always sneak up on me like that. But I don__ mind them. They__e like aspirin. They calm me down.

I steered by self as evenly as I could, and it was easier than I thought. My bike and I went shooting off the end, and together we well into the sea that__ cold and huge and doesn__ care whether living boys launch themselves into it or not.

One, who suicides, is itself a killer and itself a victim. To trigger that has its decision, and own willingness, no one else.

Viewed from a different angle, my uncle's words offered up the rest of my life as an unexpected gift, an opportunity for the most radical improvisation. I could be whatever I wanted to be, as long as I didn't end up another corpse in the casket with a hole in his head. Anything went. Anything was permissible, as long as I lived.

I realized that it was not as easy to commit suicide as to contemplate it. And since then, whenever I have heard of someone threatening to commit suicide, it has had little or no effect on me.

It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love. Dr. Juvenal Urbino noticed is as soon as he entered the still darkened house where he has hurried on an urgent call to attend a case that for him had lost all urgency many years before. The Antillean refugee Jeremiah de Saint-Amour, disabled war veteran, photographer of children, and his most sympathetic opponent in chess, had escaped the torments of memory with the aromatic fumes of gold cyanide.

Nobody ever stays the same after someone they know tries to kill themselves_