Suicide - Page 3

russotto · 02-27-2003, 04:18 PM

Quote:

Originally posted by Undertoad

It seems all too simple, and maybe patronizing, but our world really is a wondrous place and every day is a gift. Even if things go sucky, you still got to experience them and they didn't kill you.

UT, please tell me what controlled substance you were using so I can avoid it like the plague in the future.

Undertoad · 02-27-2003, 05:42 PM

Well what's your theory on life then?

warch · 02-27-2003, 07:29 PM

Quote:

...so I can avoid it like the plague...

Simple pleasure must be out of fashion.
Lighten up Francis.

elSicomoro · 02-27-2003, 08:47 PM

The WTC site isn't supposed to be finished for 10-12 years. Hong Kong is already planning a 2600 ft tall building. A 2000-ft tall building is under construction in Chicago, IIRC.

Sorry UT...not trying to burst your bubble there. I actually agree with what you were saying. As silly as it sounds, I really do get high on life. It has its problems here and there, but life rocks.

Undertoad · 02-27-2003, 09:45 PM

Nothing wrong with that; it'll be really cool to see these things reach up into the sky.

anonymous · 06-09-2015, 10:36 AM

So here we are on a hilltop, Spouse and I, marking the tenth anniversary of the death of my Brother. It is his birthday.
Jimi Hendrix on the speakers – what Brother was listening to as he waited for his overdose to take effect. Voodoo Child, a slight return. “If I don’t see you again in this world, I’ll meet you in the next one, and don’t be late!”. It’s what we listened to as his coffin disappeared in the crematorium.
Three shots of whisky, one each for me and Spouse, and one for Brother, to sprinkle on the hilltop where we scattered his ashes. We are a little early, it is lunchtime, and he took the pills that were to kill him in the evening, on this day ten years ago. In fact he didn’t die until the next morning.
I know that Brother made strenuous efforts that he would not be found by those that loved him, but by professionals. I know that the paramedics who found him cracked his ribs and ruptured his liver in their CPR efforts to save him. I feel for them, they worked so hard to save him.
I know that I shouldn't have googled the symptoms of overdosing on the drug he used: convulsions, fits, repeated heart failure. Certainly not drifting off into a happy cloud, that's for sure.
I know that Brother laid out all his personal papers, had put his finances in order as much as he could and laid it all out to make it easy for us. He didn’t think of all the other messy personal details of his life in his living space which his girlfriend and I had to tidy up, come to terms with, turn a blind eye to out of respect and love.
I know exactly where I was when I answered the phone to Older Brother, who anxiously checked that I was not alone, leading up to bad news … “Who is this about?” I interrupted, expecting to hear that a parent was in a bad way. “It’s Brother. He’s killed himself.” There is no way to convey that sick punch in the stomach of nausea. Shock.
I know that the hardest thing I have ever done was tell Father about Brother. Father had dementia and a very poor short term memory. “What were we talking about? Something terrible has happened. What is it?” “Yes, Father. Brother has killed himself”. “Oh! Our B! But he was lovely!”. Rinse. Repeat. Yet Father managed to hold this grim fact long enough to make an entry in the family Bible, with correct details, later, in heartbreakingly shaky handwriting. Then, mercifully he mostly forgot and we let him.
I know that Mother never recovered. Among her papers after she died I found a note in big, scrawly, old-age-desperate handwriting – “Remember Brother’s memorial!” . It’s still not sorted, but will be. Not important in itself. Mother envied Father: “At least he has forgotten.” She never did.
I know that Brother has not vanished from my life, nor from Older Brother’s. He is with us every day. Every step. “It’s just that there’s nothing new”, as Older Brother said.
I still cry. I still love him. I still miss him. Every day.
My only comfort, and cold comfort it is, is that it is what Brother wanted to do, and nothing ever was going to stop him from doing what he had decided to do. Stubborn. Bastard.

glatt · 06-09-2015, 11:12 AM

I won't say it's a nice memorial, because it's memorializing such a painful thing, but it's a proper one.

Gravdigr · 06-09-2015, 04:02 PM

Got something in my eye...

Gravdigr · 06-09-2015, 04:05 PM

Fuck suicide.

Fuck cancer, as always.

Sundae · 06-10-2015, 03:46 AM

I'm sorry Anon.
It helps me to remember that suicide resonates across the years and creates fault-lines that can't come back together again.

A significant way to remember someone you loved. And although his end wasn't what he would have chosen (despite trying to choose) or what you wanted for him, at the very least you get to choose how to remember. And you do that in a meaningful and dignified way.

06-09-2015, 10:36 AM	#36
anonymous Operations Operative Join Date: Feb 2004 Location: in hiding Posts: 578	So here we are on a hilltop, Spouse and I, marking the tenth anniversary of the death of my Brother. It is his birthday. Jimi Hendrix on the speakers – what Brother was listening to as he waited for his overdose to take effect. Voodoo Child, a slight return. “If I don’t see you again in this world, I’ll meet you in the next one, and don’t be late!”. It’s what we listened to as his coffin disappeared in the crematorium. Three shots of whisky, one each for me and Spouse, and one for Brother, to sprinkle on the hilltop where we scattered his ashes. We are a little early, it is lunchtime, and he took the pills that were to kill him in the evening, on this day ten years ago. In fact he didn’t die until the next morning. I know that Brother made strenuous efforts that he would not be found by those that loved him, but by professionals. I know that the paramedics who found him cracked his ribs and ruptured his liver in their CPR efforts to save him. I feel for them, they worked so hard to save him. I know that I shouldn't have googled the symptoms of overdosing on the drug he used: convulsions, fits, repeated heart failure. Certainly not drifting off into a happy cloud, that's for sure. I know that Brother laid out all his personal papers, had put his finances in order as much as he could and laid it all out to make it easy for us. He didn’t think of all the other messy personal details of his life in his living space which his girlfriend and I had to tidy up, come to terms with, turn a blind eye to out of respect and love. I know exactly where I was when I answered the phone to Older Brother, who anxiously checked that I was not alone, leading up to bad news … “Who is this about?” I interrupted, expecting to hear that a parent was in a bad way. “It’s Brother. He’s killed himself.” There is no way to convey that sick punch in the stomach of nausea. Shock. I know that the hardest thing I have ever done was tell Father about Brother. Father had dementia and a very poor short term memory. “What were we talking about? Something terrible has happened. What is it?” “Yes, Father. Brother has killed himself”. “Oh! Our B! But he was lovely!”. Rinse. Repeat. Yet Father managed to hold this grim fact long enough to make an entry in the family Bible, with correct details, later, in heartbreakingly shaky handwriting. Then, mercifully he mostly forgot and we let him. I know that Mother never recovered. Among her papers after she died I found a note in big, scrawly, old-age-desperate handwriting – “Remember Brother’s memorial!” . It’s still not sorted, but will be. Not important in itself. Mother envied Father: “At least he has forgotten.” She never did. I know that Brother has not vanished from my life, nor from Older Brother’s. He is with us every day. Every step. “It’s just that there’s nothing new”, as Older Brother said. I still cry. I still love him. I still miss him. Every day. My only comfort, and cold comfort it is, is that it is what Brother wanted to do, and nothing ever was going to stop him from doing what he had decided to do. Stubborn. Bastard. Attached Images

06-09-2015, 04:02 PM	#38
Gravdigr The Un-Tuckian Join Date: Apr 2007 Location: South Central...KY that is Posts: 39,517	Got something in my eye... __________________ These statements have not been evaluated by the FDA, EPA, FBI, DEA, CDC, or FDIC. These statements are not intended to diagnose, cause, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. If you feel you have been harmed/offended by, or, disagree with any of the above statements or images, please feel free to fuck right off.

06-09-2015, 04:05 PM	#39
Gravdigr The Un-Tuckian Join Date: Apr 2007 Location: South Central...KY that is Posts: 39,517	Fuck suicide. Fuck cancer, as always. __________________ These statements have not been evaluated by the FDA, EPA, FBI, DEA, CDC, or FDIC. These statements are not intended to diagnose, cause, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. If you feel you have been harmed/offended by, or, disagree with any of the above statements or images, please feel free to fuck right off.

06-10-2015, 03:46 AM	#40
Sundae polaroid of perfection Join Date: Sep 2005 Location: West Yorkshire Posts: 24,185	I'm sorry Anon. It helps me to remember that suicide resonates across the years and creates fault-lines that can't come back together again. A significant way to remember someone you loved. And although his end wasn't what he would have chosen (despite trying to choose) or what you wanted for him, at the very least you get to choose how to remember. And you do that in a meaningful and dignified way. __________________ Life's hard you know, so strike a pose on a Cadillac

02-27-2003, 05:42 PM	#32
Undertoad Radical Centrist Join Date: Jan 2001 Location: Cottage of Prussia Posts: 31,423	Well what's your theory on life then?

02-27-2003, 08:47 PM	#34
elSicomoro Person who doesn't update the user title Join Date: Jan 2001 Posts: 12,486	The WTC site isn't supposed to be finished for 10-12 years. Hong Kong is already planning a 2600 ft tall building. A 2000-ft tall building is under construction in Chicago, IIRC. Sorry UT...not trying to burst your bubble there. I actually agree with what you were saying. As silly as it sounds, I really do get high on life. It has its problems here and there, but life rocks.

02-27-2003, 09:45 PM	#35
Undertoad Radical Centrist Join Date: Jan 2001 Location: Cottage of Prussia Posts: 31,423	Nothing wrong with that; it'll be really cool to see these things reach up into the sky.

06-09-2015, 11:12 AM	#37
glatt ™ Join Date: Jul 2003 Location: Arlington, VA Posts: 27,717	I won't say it's a nice memorial, because it's memorializing such a painful thing, but it's a proper one.

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