Suicide is complex. It usually occurs gradually, progressing from suicidal thoughts, to planning, to attempting suicide and finally dying by suicide.
Source: International Association for Suicide Prevention
Suicide remains a major gender and social inequality and is a devastating event for families and communities. There were 6,708 suicides in the UK and ROI in 2013. In 2013 22% of contacts with Samaritans UK (more than 600,000) involved individuals expressing suicidal feelings
We can choose to stand together in the face of a society which may often feel like a lonely and disconnected place, and we can choose to make a difference by making lives more liveable for those who struggle to cope. We believe we can do this because we know that people and organisations are stronger together. ~ The Samaritans: Working together to reduce suicide 2015-21
The male suicide rate is the highest since 2001. The suicide rate among men aged 45-59, 25.1 per 100,000, is the highest for this group since 1981.
Just over a month ago Poorna Bell, Executive Editor of the Huffington Post UK, lost her husband to suicide. This is her letter to him.
In the end, there really is only room for love.
My dear husband,
It has been nearly 30 days since you held the spark of your life between your hands and pressed them shut.
Since then, I have been trying to make sense of the world.
In Hinduism – a religion you wholeheartedly set about getting to know even though I had long lost my faith – we have an 11-day ceremony and a 30-day ceremony.
I’ve never understood what these were for. But perhaps they are to mark a set of realisations.
By 11 days, I was aware that your death had made me a different person.
Everything looked, smelled and tasted different. People that I had known for years now seemed like strangers in the midst of what I felt, and what I thought they could not possibly know about.
I saw you in everything. I saw you in the sea, imagining you in the shift, turn and swirl of water. I saw you at your graveside, in the freesias you so loved. I saw you in the birds you had encyclopaedic knowledge about, in the double rainbows that lit the sky the day we said goodbye to you.
You were a big, Kiwi man in real life, and yet I saw you in the most delicate of things.
I wondered about whether to write this to you, in such a public way. But I think considering how much we talked over the last year about mental illness and how strongly we felt that not talking about it in society contributed to the sense of shame and stigma that surrounds it, I know you’d want me to do this. (I find myself doing that a lot: ‘I’m sure Rob would want me to eat that extra bar of chocolate’ and other such important life decisions).
I know it because you felt very strongly about my ability to bang a big drum to raise awareness around depression – an illness that you battled with all of your life.
I know you wanted me to speak up, so that if anyone else needed a friend or someone to talk to, and was going through the same struggles as you, I’d be able to help them. Privately or publicly.
I know we both felt greatly that the silence around mental illness created such a toxic environment for men, who were expected to – in your words – ‘man up, suffer in silence and get on with it’.
There is a lot I have discovered since you took your own life.
Firstly, while there is no hierarchy of death where one is better than the other, it’s safe to say that living a long life is at the top while a short one is at the bottom. I don’t know where suicide sits, but it’s safe to say, it makes other people REALLY uncomfortable.
I was advised against telling people how you died. And in the initial bizarreness of picking your burial plot and coffin (and being asked whether Robert was an eco-friendly man), I erred on the side of caution.
But by this 30th day, I have realised when the worst, most devastating thing possible happens, you lose the energy to maintain any artifice.
There is also an indignance that rises in me. If you had died of cancer, would I have kept your death or the circumstances a secret? Of course not. There would have been fun runs and cupcakes to kick cancer’s ass.
It was as if the method of your death implied weakness, when I know how hard you fought to stay in this world.
Despite the hand you were dealt, you achieved so much, you loved so deeply, you were gentle and kind and would help anyone who was struggling (even the homeless guy at our local bus shelter who you wanted to let stay on our couch), and you were also the most intelligent man I met – why would I not want to honour that?
And perhaps this speaks volumes about the mountain we have to climb in getting people to understand that mental illness is exactly the same as cancer. It is exactly the same as a cardiac arrest. No amount of love, medical care or money can help prevent it if it’s terminal.
When someone dies from suicide, there is anger directed at the person in a way it isn’t with physical illness. No one goes: “Oh, I can’t BELIEVE Larry died of cancer, how could he?”
In the aftermath, a lot of people have said to me: “I’m angry at him”. There was a lot of that floating around: how you made that choice and left us mired in such deep grief. There was anger at the life you had given up and the people you had left behind.
And perhaps while this is a completely natural reaction – and I certainly thought ‘How could you do this to me?’ in the first couple of days after your death, I think after a while, we must remember your best, brightest parts.
I’m not saying I have it figured out. I don’t know that I will ever fully understand your decision to end your life.
When I finally mustered up the courage to place my hand on your chest one last time, and I felt how cold you were, your soul evaporated, your eyes never to open again, I understood the finality of it. I understood that any idiot can create life – an episode of 16 and Pregnant will tell you that – but once given, it is a gift and a precious one at that.
I think the anger comes from not knowing we were on rations. It is fuelled by the guilt we all felt.
We should have hugged you more, spent time with you, memorised every part of you, told you we loved you – had just one more day with you – because deep down, we feel that if we did that, you wouldn’t have killed yourself.
The point I am trying to make is that I get it. With suicide, what feels like a choice to other people was not a choice for you. Our love – and you had an ocean of people who felt that way about you – was not going to anchor you to this world when you felt there was no possibility, no hope.
As I write this, there are plenty of people who feel like that. Some of them will not make that terrible, final choice, and some of them will. And although I don’t have the answers yet (maybe in another 30 days), I do know that we must talk about it.
We must make it easier for people to reach out when the blackness threatens to swallow them whole. We must give men the space, voice and understanding to be scared and vulnerable and not see it as weakness. We must say that mental health desperately needs funding, that it should be as top a priority as tackling obesity or cancer.
I’m not saying any of these things would have saved you. But I am saying that I refuse to remember you in anger and shame, when what we had was immense love.
If you want to help someone in need, reach out to them hug your treasure as you truly mean it. Let them vent give them space to breathe . Never say “get over it” Don’t judge, don’t be impatient.
Watch the warning signs Someone inside perhaps retreats within themselves Silence is seen as escapism when in fact what happens inside a living being is our message from our gut really is the bodies way of reacting to lack of water, nourishment, surviving drought or famine inside all living matter fighting for survival. The role then is sent to the brainwaves simply GIVE UP.
WE ARE ALL FRAGILE NO ONE IS INVINCIBLE 🙁
Or maybe a sensitive Soul is mentally tired.
Mental illness has naught to do with giving up is a dangerous precursor to SUICIDE.
Animals, Humans, plants give up too. Why?
This Earth is Fragile we to are fragile
Every living being has this point called Fragility
We never know, what lays behind those eyes until the day we turn around to find another life LOST
Fragile– life is everyone’s responsibility.
Promises made at the moment, that are forfeited by the way perhaps unintended Promise’s never kept could destroy a life Scared, disappointed, anger, loss of dignity, loss of trust, loss of love, all are a precursor to an already FRAGILE Soul.
Thought for the day “When you make a promise — that is your word” You are only respected by your “Word”of promise you have made. Another Gentleman may say you are as good as your Word!
💥 Here at Dazzle the team intends to look at Broken Soul – SUICIDE — a subject we will all deal with around our lives with family, friends also with strangers who are FRAGILE.
EDITOR: DAZZLE This Category Blogging is not Medical advice or makes any claims pertaining to information in this chapter of Dazzled. You are invited to participate in this Category by sending your thoughts by email to the Central Office for consideration to publish here. Thank you and blessings 🕯
“I LOVE YOUR CAT!” a poem a.k.a.: “On Being A Kitty Person!”
I just LOVE cats, especially YOUR KITTY – and all the things she’ll do! So, when you say, “My kitty hurts,” well-then, my-kitty-sure-hurts-too, Even-though-I-don’t-really-have-a-kitty – although-I’ve-always-wanted one! So, I’m glad you let me borrow – YOUR KITTY1 ’cause-kitties-are-a-lot-of-fun!
They’re fuzzy – and cuddly – and-they-move-around-a-lot, And, IF-I’m-ever-marooned-on-a-desert-island, a (beautiful) kitty’s-what-I-hope-I-got!
So-let’s-be-real-gentle-with-your-kitty; I like to kiss her so sweet, And I like to tell her: “I LOVE YOU,” and – I also like to eat, With – and cuddle – your kitty; it is my favorite thing, To spend time with your kitty! Even-to-bed I’ll bring, Your kitty – and-we’ll-comfort-one-another – throughout the-blessed-night, And, when we rise at morning time, your-kitty-is-my-delight!
And, when your kitty’s caught “the bird,” and her lips are dripping red, I-still-tell-your-kitty, “I LOVE YOU,” and-I-lay-my-aching-head, On-her-and-tickle – kitty’s little nose, And I watch your kitty – and-how-she-sometimes-grows! So, in the morning, when we open our eyes, I fondle your kitty – and get a rise, From-kitty-AND-from-her-little-nose, That’ll-squirt-and-dribble, so-I’ll-propose: “Come on now, little kitty! Let’s-play!-cume-over-here,” And I’ll hold kitty tenderly! To-me, your kitty’s-so-dear! Are there other kitty lovers-out-there? I-say-“Hail! to little ‘ V! ‘” For kitty’s name is Valentina; come, Kitty! Sit-on-my-knee! 🙂 – Kitty’s are wonderful!
MUSHY LOVE STORIES: “The Yummy Strokin’ Family Guy!”
Once upon a time, I think a fellow met his true love! Her name was Kailee! She came “into” the world from “above!”*
Well, this guy Sherman and Kailee married & lived to be quite old! Maybe they were 80 or so at the time this story is told! They lived and they loved, and they grew older together! They were like peas and carrots, in all sorts of weather!
They had a couple of FAIRLY-cute kids, bought a house and a car, and they’re content, pretty much wherever they are! As they got older, they moved a bit slower! “K” enjoyed sitting in a lounger, one somewhat lower, but Sherm liked to cook meals and clean a bit and go shopping: even though that-was K’s “regular job,” she gave up so much “hopping” around to get grocery purchases, and do cooking and stuff! Yet, Sherm was pleased as punch! He seemed to never get enough of doing stuff for Kate! I guess he really adored her so!
Once, one of their kids had a birthday, for even kids get older, as you know!
It was a pizza party, with cake and ice cream, and “one year to grow!” It was a pretty nice day, as far as days go! As Dad Sherm and The Kid sat around the dinner table, they chatted about current affairs and talked about a famous FABLE: One about a man married 50 years, to the same ol’ wife! He was interviewed by a youngster, asking if there hadn’t been strife! The interviewer said: “50 years? That’s a long time!” “Yeah, but it would-a-been-MUCH-longer-without-Her!” was his rhyme!
Anyway, back to now, and these two guys are eating pizza pie, and Sherm had a little bit of the classic, wondering eye, looking over at Katie, asking her if she needed anything! “Not now,” she said, “but, for The Kid’s birthday – let’s definitely sing!”
So, they sang The Birthday Song, candles got blown; everyone had a nice meal, this should be known! And, with YUMMY cake in his mouth, Sherm said to The Kid with a purr: “You know, Sonny! I just LOVE lookin’-at-her!”
And The Kid thought: “After 60 + years of starts, STROKES! and stops, Of heartaches, difficulties, washes and mops, and diapers and arguments and finances and travel – and-all-sorts-of-chances-to-have-everything-unravel, these two are still together, and Sherm feels THAT way!
MAYBE THERE’S HOPE FOR ALL OF US, for TOMORROW & TODAY!”
*We all do, actually! Some people just don’t notice!
“RELIGION! RELIGION!”* a poem a.k.a.: “Happy Daze!” 5 June 2019 (I think I WED. myself!)
In religion you’ll notice lots of sad, dark and gray,
And ALSO great color, even-mystic[al] and “gay!”**
THE THING IS: WE TAKE WHAT WE WANT FOR THE SEASON,
And forget about the rest, and we don’t need not reason!
We promote s – x -a – ity when we like; then we turn,
From “provocative ways,” as we watch witches burn!
In the name of religion, you can beg, borrow and kill,
And handle friendly vipers! St. Paul would-get-a-thrill!
You can demonize cults, but they’re-just following the trend,
Of governments and civilizations, which fall, rise and-[sometimes]-mend,***
Their policies and theologies – It’s the way of all LIFE?
To self-protect and promote! Shed your “s[k]ins” with a knife,
And-if you think that “God” or “creation” will de-vi-ate,
From the tendency to exploit – and spread Holy Hate,
Think again! There’s a part of the whole, very strong,
That will stimulate and destroy you, by using your shlong,
And The Yanni, gaping wide, when-it’s-ready WILL TAKE-YOU,
To H – L L or Nirvana – or Val-halla a-new!
This dream here on Earth will not easily go out,
For The God of your dreams wants The Place, without doubt,
To continue FOREVER, despite-carnage and disease,
And The Lord loves The Plague – just as much as “The Bees,
And The Birds – and “molesters,” who live on your street,
Wishing-for your [yummy] young daughter, as an afternoon treat!
Murdering Jihad-ists, hippies and politicians,
Are-all in-The-Lamb’s Book-of-Life AND they-have-missions,
To-fulfill for The Goddess, who-loves Armageddon and The Plague,
And a Mozart Sonata – and a rapist in drag,
And a soft, summer night, where Lovers love on the grass,
And coitus mission-arily – or a f – – – up your a – -,
And those that say otherwise, just wait! and you’ll see,
That this place won’t go gently – It’ll take you and me,
With IT (or try to) in unique, graceful fashion!
THE WORLD-is: Self-protecting! Self-promoting! Filled with passion!
And The Passion of Christ has-a- s-x- y flavor too,
And burying other people is just what-some-folks-like-to-do!
Consistency – and inconsistency – are equally embraced,
By a “creator” with amnesia – and a life, arsenic based,
And Our Heavenly Father – will give you a scorpion’s egg!!
And will watch you getting tortured, with-cattle-prods as you beg,
For your life to be ended, when The Dark Night of The Soul,
Drapes-both: mass-murdering “saints” – and “sinners” with the goal,
Of WILD self-promotion! Just ask: Trump, “Vlad” and/or Satan!
Dictators kiss babies! and-mum’s-embrace-is-filled-with-hatin’ !
For, when your mommy’s ready to eat you, she’ll cook you in style,
And THE PART that wants to eat – will droo-ool and smile,
And, when Creation or “God” wants to START OVER, Hon,
WE CAN WATCH AS THE STARS – GO OUT! ONE BY ONE!
– brought to you by your friendly, local pizza parlor; Little Caesar: “Pizza! Pizza!”
** – e.g.: Easter Time & Kali’s love of bodily mutilation & The Jihad Experience & Lord Shiva [life + death = life!] & [both Old & New Testament] “Wise [astrological] Men” and [wo]men sleeping with [wo]men & festivals & things for the kids & demons & weddings & sacrifices & nocturnal emissions & EVER-LASTING LIFE!? around here? Why?
Q: I feel guilty 100% of the time after masturbating—regardless of if I viewed porn or not. I know this is likely the result of a religious upbringing and even though I wouldn’t consider myself religious anymore the guilt remains. Even into my late teens, my parents would turn off the TV whenever a women’s underwear ad (such as Victoria’s Secret) was on. I know this guilt is irrational and would like advice on how to train myself to feel good about what’s natural; I figure if I was conditioned to feel guilt there must be a way to recondition myself and rid myself of these negative feelings. I do not allow porn and masturbation to get in the way of any necessary activities, I only enjoy them during my free time; I know procrastination isn’t the reason for my guilt. Any insight and advice you could provide would be incredibly welcomed!
A: Isn’t it amazing how our upbringing could have such an impact on our views of sexuality, even though rationally we do not hold these beliefs? You are not alone! Unfortunately, it is rather common for someone who was brought up to believe that masturbation and sex before marriage are sinful to develop hang-ups about sex, usually involving lots of guilt and shame around their sexuality. There is no easy fix, however, you will have to work at changing the family narrative around sexuality. In other words, this doesn’t have to be your story. Try writing down all of your actual beliefs about sex, all the positives, etc., and make sure you read it often, especially before and after any sexual activity. It will take some time and practice, but over time, it is possible to change our sexual scripts.