History Of Suicide

[Christian Price]

Trinomial, I will. I'm so pleased to be here, I can't say it enough times. It's been a very long and lonely road trying to live life as a person who surived what I did with the: looks, whispers and treated as the village idiot. Also the occasional "helpful" advice, should I ever want to revist what I did when I was 16, less I "botch" another attempt. If I can be open with the village about my struggle with suicide, depression and try and understand what PTSD and how it effects my life, it will be that much more easier to share with fellow suriviors.

 

[Christian Price]

Tonight was the absolute worst and most vivid of my trauma. It started with a nightmare and it went downhill. I've been up two hours and no way am I going back to sleep. First I feel like I am bleeding to death again. I could feel the blood volume loss on my legs again, totally felt the weak muscles and loss of motor control and then the cotton mouth hit me. I could feel the adrenalin rush from the moment I jogged into the woods to do this to myself; I could feel the adrenalin rush trying to get myself out of the woods after the shooting.

The absoulte worst thoough, I forgot just how hot that slug was when it came out. :( The enitre left side of my chest is on fire. My doctors apointment is Thursday and I see my counselor tomorow.

 

[Srain]

Welcome Christian, thank you for sharing. I do get how exhausting the whole reliving the trauma over and over can be, it can be even rougher when those around you are ill informed about PTSD with the expectation that acknowledgement must surely be enough to move forward. However, it's a process and everyone has a different healing time table.

I just don't understand the changes in my head. Like mowing the lawn today was exhausting and not because of the toil; the vibration from the lawn mower tired me out. I usually get it done with no break. I had to take 5 breaks today. My wife had to scold our boys because they were acting up over dinner and it felt like I'd been hit in the forehead with a ball pen hammer the sound of her voice.

This struck me and I can really relate to what you seem to be experiencing, "sensory overload", and it sucks! I go through this when I am especially stressed out. Anthony describes it very well in this post.-

https://www.ptsdforum.org/c/threads/the-ptsd-cup-explanation.13737/#post-73960

I'm hoping this will help a bit to explain some of what is going on for you. I tend to couple stress with flashbacks and what sounds like some dissociation or depersonalization or "fogginess" and I'm not feeling apart of my life much at all.

It really sounds like you are being extremely proactive so please understand it's a process. Keep writing and taking it a step at a time. I get that it feels very scary, however, stepping into healing IS the hard part and you are far from alone in this.

Take good care of yourself,
Peace,
Rain

 

[BenzoJess]

I have to chime in and say I think you're doing an AMAZING job. I am inspired. Really- you are already helping someone by telling your story honestly. (I am not doing so well today.) Sometimes I feel that people who work so hard at this are quiet heroes. Thank you for your fearless vulnerability.

Flashbacks really do come out of nowhere if you don't know all your triggers, don't they? Sometimes the triggers are so subtle and then we're hypnotized out of any safety of the present back into our special cage of the past. Like you, it's been an up and down road for me. I want to live very desperately but it does feel like I'm fished out of the water only to be thrown back. I am having trouble accepting this.

I hope I can help a little here but I'm just a comrade in arms, not a professional....

-Photosensitivity is a side effect of many medications from anti-depressants to cholesterol drugs but it's usually skin-related, not a visual response.

-I would suggest that you make a list of all your symptoms and show them to your doctor. Sorry if that's obvious but my PTSD is like a memory gremlin, eating up all my retrieval as part of a greater scheme to make life even more difficult, lol. I can't remember simple things that happened yesterday but I can remember, like you, minute details of the trauma. And those come back in waves. So vivid.

-I'm taking a meditation class. Meditation isn't always easy, sometimes it's really uncomfortable but after class, it's like I've taken a couple xanax and I feel bright and clear. Free for a little while. Meditation is basically free meds! I bet there are free classes somewhere near you but I'll look for some guided meditation links my teacher emailed out.

Again, thank you for struggling through this. Thank you for your perseverance. Your struggle is not wasted because I'm sure it is helping other people here in addition to me.

Also, I have to give you a compliment- this thread is not easy to read and my heart goes out to you. But you are very articulate and I can imagine that your writing is hella good.

 

[freakofnurture]

But my village wants me to go see the doctor once, twice and snap my finger and I'm all good.

'The village' - that sounds eerie o.o

Explaining PTSD as a form of brain damage could open some eyes (and you'd not even be lying with this). People are generally more accepting when things are phrased in terms of 'touchable' physical damage as opposed to abstract psychological damage. No one would demand that - for example - someone with a stroke goes back to normal within a few weeks, or ever, for that matter.

 

[Christian Price]

Thank you Fearless Healing and freakofnurture. Prior to the shooting I'd had a very healthy typical athletic 16 year old boys body used to football and manual labor. About a week after the shooting; I took my first shower and probably could have used a therapist there with me. I can see myself looking in the mirror. I went from a healthy strong teenager into a freak or a beast. From about 1 inch left of sternum to a few inches shy of my spine, it was practically all scar tissue. They litteraly ripped me in half. Then I had to deal with the bullet hole.

I had been told "You did a very bad thing. What kind of person are you?" I used to watch the pink scar so close to my heart, and watch it pulse. I used to punish myself because, apparently I was bad for what I did. Sure, there were those caring types, but they told me in the hospital I had to lie. They told me "Look boy, your chances would've been better off having your legs cut off in an accident or been burned up in a fire then deal with society when they find out what you did." I just had the chest tubes removed and basically someone pulled back the lid to my head and yelled "Fire in the hole!" and dropped an emotional grenade into my head with that One statement. I was terryfied of society, then I saw my scars and knew I had probably been revivied. I thought I was no longer a boy but a reanimanted monster the villagers were going to hunt down with pitchforks and torches when my secret came out.

Its been a long road. Part of this PTSD I know is centered on societies reaction to what I survived and did. I honestly don't care anymore. I am thankful to be alive and I'm going to fight through this issue and keep on going and help any I can with what I've learned.

As always it's good to stop in here. I see my therapist tomorow and the MD on Thursday for the first time since this crisis erupted in my mind almost two weeks ago. Have a good night.

 

[freakofnurture]

Part of this PTSD I know is centered on societies reaction to what I survived and did.

F*ck society. Seriously. It's just a collection of narrow minded asshats who don't care enough to protect children from their violent p*arents, but care just the right amount when it comes to berating those neglected children for not being able to cope with the consequences of said apathy.

There's this thread 'What not to say to a PTSD sufferer' and it's basically a long list of instances where people blame the victim and minimise the horror sufferers had to go through. Excuses everywhere for why society is okay and nothing really bad ever happens.

You survived. People should applaud you for that and apologise for not being there for you before you felt so abysmally bad that you were willing to try take your life. They should see your scars as testimony to society's apathy and your p*rent's total failure.

Sorry, ranting. But this shit really makes me sick.

 

[Christian Price]

I understand freakofnurture; at the time I was a teenager and was for the lack of better terms was in shell shock for the better part of two years following that day. My head was like a blank tape just taking data in. It was not until the last few months that I started to unscrew my head and look inside and saw with same shock the amount of garbage I'd been fed.

This is when I got angry and wanted to recalim my life back from this stigma. It has not been easy, there tweny five years of unwinding to do in there. I'm a stronger human than most of the people that heaped crap on me all of my life when they were face to face with what I'd done. Everything from whispers to the icy cold distant gaze. Its been fun!! <heavy sarcasam>

 

[Christian Price]

Apointment with councilor went well today. Apointment with MD in the morning. Symptoms seem to have diminished through the day. Enjoying spending time with my kids; its good to be alive.

 

[Christian Price]

Today I am going to see the doctor for the first time to discuss my history with depression and symptoms that seem to match PTSD; I say that because I've not been diagnosed. Who knows there may be other things in play but I am moving forward to get help.

I felt good last night before I went to bed. First night in four nights no nightmares. I woke up with the "light" on me. The light is the muzzle flash. The light is everything associated with the suicide. Somedays its only a whiff of a January winters bight in the air. Other days I can taste the gun powder and feel the blast in me. What was neat when I woke up the family dog was laying next to my side of the bed. He is my wifes dog. He shadows her but when I feel the light he comes near to me.

So far no symptoms other than feeling the light touching my body. Have a good day today and God bless.

 

[BenzoJess]

(btw I changed my name from FearlessHealing. BenzoJess is more appropriate to my life situation.)

I'm super happy you feel a little safer and are taking these steps. Please keep trudging and let us know how it's going. Please keep putting one foot in front of the other. If you have bad days, remember that you'll have good days too. I don't always believe that for myself but I do believe true healing is possible for a lot of people and you've got so much willingness to trudge. It can happen for you. You don't have to slip through the cracks. There are probably a lot of people reading your posts, silently strengthened by the fact you're taking all these steps.

I love the dog story. I know animals who are like that-- how nice to have a friend who, as all decent beings should, doesn't care about your scars, judge you for what was an innocent human act or has strict ideas of what's right and what's wrong. I'd say you suffered enough and it's time to feel ok.

You sound like you believe in God (I, unfortunately, err on the atheist/nihilist end) but I still find the idea of God uplifting. There is a wonderful book called Seeds of Contemplation by the famous Trappist monk, Thomas Merton. I assume you're Christian by your avatar (apologies if I'm wrong) but I know a lot of believers who have found comfort and inspiration in his writing. I love his writing. He's smart as a whip, a true poet and partly responsible for the migration of Buddhist thought into the U.S. in the 60s. Seeds of Contemplation is entirely Christian though- a lot of meditative contemplation and borrowing from the Christian mystics, theologians, etc. It's a brilliant, quiet monastic book of union with God.

There is a poem by Franz Wright called "In the Even More Terrible Blindness Called Light". This poet is no stranger to suicide and depression but he is marching on. Your photosensitivity reminds me of that title.

Ok, I'm drifting off into pretentious book learnin' land. Back to you.

I've been reading, googling about "what do I do when I have flashbacks," founds some suggestions, e.g., saying to yourself "That was the past, I am in the present." There are probably a lot of threads here about that too.

Best of the best,
Jess
:cool: <<< das my cool face

 

[Christian Price]

My real name is Jim. C.P is the pen name. I chose my son's name and the last name is a distant family relation. I can be refered to either or.

Not a good day at all for me. The doctor was a quack. She understood I was a Christian; she was one as well and I felt like I was visiting a pastor/preacher. If I wanted one of those, I would've gone to one. Her attitude towards me "You need to be just sharing your message. What you survived." You think??!! She feels my "angst" is because my heart is "not right." I kid you not. *sigh* I know more about my own disease process than the people who are supposed to be helping me. I am depressed. Been depressed for most of my life. Every 10 years or so my exterior environment overtakes me. I noticed depression when I was 6. A divorce and a new family I never blended into. Father became abusive/negelct my step mother looked the other way. By age 16 I died by suicide. There was an intervention of a spirit nature to return my life. I am ok for two years, I get therapy for one year. My life is stable. Father stops swining chainsaws at my head. I graduate and go into big people world. I still have depressiona and now I've got PTSD. Flashbacks, cant concentrate, I avoid stuff etc. I get married. Ten years after I graduate HS, it catches back up to me. My wife takes off. I had a career as a nurse (not a good fit). I drop out of RN school one month before graduation and find myself living on the street. I sleep for two years. I work odd jobs. Nothing stressful but it allows me to sleep. I worked as a boucner, bar back and in gyms. I feel great after two years of sleeping and just resting my mind. Meet my wife. Go back into nursing. I lose my liscence because I make to many mistakes. I still cant concentrate. I go into sales. The cycle has come full circle.

History has taught me: Age 16 I shot and killed myself. I was spared. Age 26-29 I lose a marriage, quit college one month from graduation and live out of my car. So, here I am.

Here is my dillema. I sell cars by trade. The economy has been beatin the snot out of me but I've still managed to fight and sell cars. I sold 99 cars in Febuary alone, by myself. I am exhausted. I have to sell about 40 each month to keep a roof on the family. I am the only salesman and I've got two guys that help me. I am like a manager and sales in one. Over the last two years my numbers have imploded. I've sold off every bit off property I own to feed my family and I've got nothing left to sell. Business ain't comin back and today they told me. They advertised for my job. So, I write a book to sell my story to raise money and all I did was yank open the box to the past. So, I got the gremlins running around in my head from that.

I had boxed that up 25 years ago. So the three years of stressed economy and yanking off the lid. Te doctor just carpet bombs me with psyhic tropics with barely spening five minutes with my symptoms. Waves off PTSD. I am tryin. Tryin like H#ll to fight the good fight. Since my shooting, my depression was never treated. I know the calvary is coming. My spouse goes back to work in the fall. Our oldest goes to school and she is a teacher. My goal is to be a full time speaker by this time next year. Its just clawing through the next 3-10 months. My councelor is my best hope but she is out of her element and she has admitted as such, but she has a heart for me. With no insurance not many doors.

I am only runnin on heart. I know my God is there. I don't feel Him but he was there those years ago. I am just tired of this burning white hot depression in my head. But I will contiune to post here. Take my meds. See my councelor and hold fast.

I remember that fight to live in the woods and field. I wanted to live. My God did I want to live. I still do. I feel like I've been fighting for so long. Sorry for being down but it wasn't a good day I was hoping the doctor would help. With no insurance she was my only option.