Mental Health – M*A*S*H Theme.

The song was wrong, and suicide is never painless.

I am going to write this with my human. Another collaboration, once more working together to correct the wrongs that we see. This one is harder for him, not that it is easy for me. So with that in mind, it should be noted, the good parts are all on me, the bad on him.

Are we clear? Good, then we will begin.

The theme from MASH is a wonderful song, and it has long been one of my favourites. It is though very wrong; suicide is never painless. At my lowest, it was something I considered more than once. It is not something I am particularly proud to admit, and it is not something that I think is good to consider. It is, however, something that I think is worth opening up about and talking through. Nobody should ever be at this point in their lives, but many of us — sadly — do get to it.

Firstly, suicide is never painless. Even if you were to manage to develop a completely pain-free way and guaranteed to work, you’d still always leave someone in pain. You may not realise it, but there will always be someone who loves you. You might not believe it, but it is true. You will never find a painless way either, and there will always be that chance that it could go wrong. This brings me on to my next point…

I have in the past seen it said that suicide is cowardly. I will try and dispel this myth, or at least go some way to tendering another point of view.

The moment in my life that I felt nothing had any meaning. At my worst, that point I was stuck in a tunnel of darkness with no entrance or exit, I found myself with nothing. I would spend my days drunk, crying or sleeping. That was it, and I felt I had nothing. It turned out that I had lots of things to live for — praise Satan — but I could see none of them in the darkness of my misery.

I am not defending suicide; it hurts those you love. It is a terrible thing for any family or friend to have to go through. You start to question if you did enough, how could you not have seen it coming, was it my fault? Suicide is never the answer. But, it is not a cowardly way out. I couldn’t do it; I bottled it. I thought about it; I considered methods. I could have taken handfuls of my medication, dosed myself up higher than a hippy in the sixties and lay down on my bed, and that would be it. Would it have, though? What if I threw up the pills? What if they had only damaged me further leaving me as — more — of a blubbering mess trapped in my own mind.

It was selfish; I was thinking of just myself. It never crossed my mind the effect it would have had on my family. What would my parents have thought? My siblings? What about my daughters? I do not see them, but what about when they heard the news? I went through various methods in my head, planning every detail, but I always hit the what-ifs, an impenetrable wall of logic. I can look back now and realise I was making excuses not to do it. I thought of all these things, but the main thing stopping me was the fear of it going wrong. I bottled it.

That, my readers, is my point. When people get to that point in their lives, they have all the determination in the world. A weak person without that courage will do as I did and find excuses. Someone who commits suicide has hit that point where they cannot find those excuses, or they have the strength to push through them. Suicide is never the answer, but it also takes a tremendous amount of strength. Reach out to that person who needs it. Tell the person you love. Grasp the hand of the one who needs support and let them know that you are there. You may not understand, but you can listen.

Save more family and friends the heartache of suicide.

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