“Anyone desperate enough for suicide...should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow away on the boat to New Zealand and start over, do what they always wanted to do but were afraid to try.” ~Richard Bach

You can't honestly tell me that at some point in your life you haven't thought about checking out.  Yes, I'm talking about suicide.  Maybe you haven't thought about doing something crazy, but come on, even just feeling like life is too much at the moment and you want to be gone.  My entire adult life (up until the past few years) I've wanted to die. Not just die, but to kill myself.  I've even gone through the stages of getting things in order.  Cleaning out personal things, where the kids should go, and who should get my belongings.  At the time, I thought I was being responsible.  My ducks were in a row.

Knowing someone that has had these thoughts, or even ended their life, is not the same as being that person. If you have not felt this way ever.....you can't even begin to imagine what it's like. Some days I had to dig so deep inside my soul to find a reason to stay for one more day.  I would lie awake all night, getting little sleep for years fantasizing (yes, that's very disturbing) about the last moments of my life.  In my early adult life, I would spends days on end drinking until I would pass out.  Each time, hoping I wouldn't wake up.  Once again, I felt like I was being responsible because my kids were with their dad, and I was home alone.  Obviously this didn't work.

Later on in life, I made a different plan,  I justified my thoughts by telling myself my kids had many people who love them and I knew they would be taken care of very well.  I had the place picked out, and the time of year that I would do this.  Telling you this is going to help me.  I haven't talked about my plan with any of my many therapists that I've seen over the years.  I am both ashamed and disappointed with myself for being in the dark place that I once was.

I remember the day very well.  I was done.  Spent.  No longer had any desire to live.  I put on some music, Bryan Adams, and traveled to Provo Canyon.  Sun roof open, sunglasses on...if you saw me you would've thought that I was going on a nice Sunday drive.  I headed up to Squaw Peak.  I wasn't nervous at all.  Rather calm.  When I reached the top, I got out of the car and observed the people there. No one could've suspected anything because of my actions.  I looked around, walked to the edge of the peak, and told myself "this is the place."  But that day wasn't the day.  I was determined to wait until late fall.  Just before the first big snow storm.  At the time, being frozen in the ground sounded peaceful.  I would no longer be held hostage to the excruciating pain and anger.  I would feel liberated.

Well, life happens and even though I was still dying inside, I never went back to Squaw Peak. I guess I just kept finding reasons to live. Those thoughts never really escaped me. But I guess you could say, they were put on the back burner.  Sitting here today, I am very grateful that I didn't let the feelings of self loathing, pain, and worthlessness over power me.  I have been able to experience life being happy and the thoughts of suicide are completely gone.  It makes me sad thinking about what used to consume the majority of my thoughts.  I know  there are many people in the world today that have those same thoughts.  I wish I had the magical answer.  But all I can tell you is that there is help, hope and peace out there. I have learned that it's ok to have the thoughts of suicide (not recommending it at all!) as long as you don't act them out or hurt yourself.  When you're having thoughts about suicide, you are allowing the anger for being abused and the anger you have towards the abuser to take over.  Don't let that anger take your life.  We are all filled with incredible strength.  Get angry.  Cry! Let yourself feel every emotion, and then be done with it.  Do what you need to do to release yourself from the anger, pain and sorrow.  Ultimately, if you end your life, you have lost.  And not only have you lost, but the child molester has won.  Don't let the abuser destroy you.  

I chose the above quote because I think it so describes me!  My family and friends have always thought I was crazy.  I didn't "do" the things normal people did.  I didn't ever take the easy road. I mean come on, the spontaneous dangerously unknown is way more appealing.  I've been accused of "being on something" on several occasions.  Funny though....I've always been drug free!  So I guess what it comes down to is that I could've ended my life along time ago. But, what I like and want to believe is that my hunger for adventure kept me alive.  It bought me the time I needed to be able to deal with being sexually abused as a child in a healthy and productive way. Now, I'm not going to change.  I'm not going to mellow out or slow down.  Adventure will ALWAYS be calling my name.  But, now the difference is I am being adventurous with my partner and our kids.   

Statistically, victims of childhood sexual abuse are 13 times more likely to commit suicide.  Also, 43% of victims have thought about or attempted suicide.  *The department of pediatrics and child health 2001 Sept.
Keep in mind, this study was done on young victims, all under the age of 24 years old.  Also, as you can see, the study was done 10 years ago.  I believe the numbers to be higher because victims are not all just healed by age 24.  You must also take in consideration that not all victims ever report or talk about being abused.  Think about this one for a minute....
The typical sex offender molests an average of 117 children, most of whom do not report the offense.
*National Institute of Mental Health
Do the math people!

Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death

I know it's been awhile...but remember what I said.  COMPLETE CONTROL.  I had to slam on the brakes briefly.  Alot has happened in the past few weeks, hell the past month and a half.  Besides this mess, I've also had big changes in my family life.  So, it's easy for me to see how I ended up here weeks later.

I've been dealing with something that I will describe to you as an emotional tug o' war.  Last month my mother finally broke her silence. I received a letter from her.  To sum things up without getting too sappy, she loves me, she's proud of me, and she didn't know what had happened to me.  At first, I was angry with the letter!  I wondered why this simple letter had taken her so long to write.  I was angry that for months I stewed about her not writing me soon after she received my letter.  Let  me remind you, my letter did not contain blame, anger or hate towards my parents.  So, to not immediately hear back from them was highly painful.

For the next few days I thought about her letter.  My anger was now shifting to guilt.  Naturally, I didn't  like the way I was feeling.  Guilt is not a part of my treatment.  The only guilt that I want to allow myself to feel is the guilt I have for my little Wendy Sue.  I guess you could say I was feeling guilty that my mom was upset.  That she was having a hard time with this, and was very emotional.  The grapevine "spoke" to me and informed me  that this was all taking a huge toll on her.  So, I decided that I needed to wait until I could get back into my survivor mode.  After 2 weeks, I wrote her back.  I told her what my partner and I had been up to, as well as our kids.

I felt good about it.  I had responded.  I didn't ignore it.  I didn't just let it be.  Yea for Wendy!  But, a few weeks later, my doorbell rang.  It was my mother.  I don't really want to go into much detail about her visit. But I will tell you this, I held myself together very well.  I listened to what she had to say without feeling much emotion.  I didn't get upset. I didn't get angry.  We talked about the kids, and then she was gone. I closed the door, sat on the chair and took a deep breath.  I didn't feel guilty.  I felt sadness for her, but not guilt.  What she was feeling was not my fault. For whatever reasons (and I have some ideas) she was now feeling the pain and hurt that victims have no control over.

“Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain” -William Faulkner

Today really sucks!  It blows to feel emotion!