To those who say that committing suicide is a “coward’s way
out” or anything along that line, let me just tell you this- your thinking is
wrong and you’re full of shit. Chances
are, if you have that mentality, you’ve never been in a very dark place where
it seems there is no way out. For lots
of people, life feels dark and gloomy and fronts are put up to make people
think their lives are great and happy and perfect or whatever people around
them or in society expect their lives to be.
What people don’t know is what really goes on in the human brain. This is not something that goes on with just
celebrity. It’s happening everywhere you
look. You just don’t know who has what
going on or the thoughts that are going on in people’s minds. I’ve been there. I’ve lived it. While I have been more open over the past few
years about my thoughts of committing suicide, most people that know me or knew
me growing up had no idea about it at all.
Randomly, but very rarely, the thought still flashes through my head,
albeit only for a brief second because, for me, I know that things aren’t as
bad as they seem in that moment. I’ll
see if I can explain what went on with me and with a little hope that if this
ever reaches anyone and helps them come back off that ledge, it will be well
worth it. Otherwise, I hope this can
shed some light onto other people.
For those that knew/know me, a lot of this will be familiar
as I explain my background. For others,
it’s all knew information. Feel free to
criticize in your mind, but we aren’t here to read this and be negative.
I grew up in Anacostia in SE DC as one of the few white kids
in a vastly black neighborhood. My
parents didn’t have much. My mom stayed
at home to raise me and my sister. My
dad was proud and worked in a print shop.
He did the best he could to provide for his family. Of course, I loved my parents just as any kid
does. I was always definitely more
bonded with my dad. I won’t go into a
lot of details about my childhood in general- I’ll just skip ahead some. My sister and I shared a bedroom. I could always tell that, in my mom’s eyes,
she was her favorite child. Everything
my mother did seemed targeted to her.
What she wanted for birthdays, Christmas, or whenever, she got. I got some things, but mostly it was 2nd
tier to what I asked for because for Kenny it was “good enough”. I got in trouble at home a lot- not cleaning
the room or doing the dishes “right” or whatever it was. It was just always “wrong”. I tried and tried to get that positive
attention from my mother, but it didn’t seem to be there. Again, it was always what sister wanted or
whatever her “word” was. I didn’t seem
to have any credibility- even when there was taped evidence of it. Yes my sister would hide a tape recorder to
try to get me in trouble even though it just proved what she was doing instead. For me it was always a “well he must have
done something BEFORE the recorder turned on”.
I felt seriously unloved by her. My sister didn’t help the situation
either. I was always getting negative
feedback from the both of them. So
often, the thought would come into my head of “their lives would be better off
without me”. I tried to ignore it at
first, but as time went on, the thoughts grew more. When you’re very young and
being put down constantly, it’s really hard.
When you’re told all the time how “you would have had an older brother,
but he was still born..and we were going to stop at 2 kids”, but you’re
actually kid #3, what are you supposed to think. I couldn’t help but think (and this sometimes
even goes on today), “I’m not even supposed to be here”. I can’t tell you how many nights I laid in
my bed crying softly and just feeling that I just wanted to feel WANTED and
LOVED. My dad tried his best, but he wasn’t
the one I was striving for that feeling from.
The thoughts and feelings continued to grow and I reached
the point of “I really can’t do this anymore.
They really don’t want me here. I’m
not supposed to be here anyway- they’ll be happier if I’m dead”. This was, of course, nothing I could talk to
anyone about. I mean, come on- when you’re
like 10 years old, there’s no internet or anything at the time, who are you really
going to go an talk to? People just
think you’re a whiny brat who isn’t getting his way. Many many nights, as I would lay there crying
myself to sleep, the idea of just dying in my sleep started to almost possess
me. It’d be just so easy. No more pain, no more feeling anything- just
peaceful sleep and not ever waking up. This
is just the way it had to be- with sleep.
I wasn’t going to cut myself or hang myself or take pills. My dad had a gun in the house, I heard, but
no- I wasn’t going to do anything painful…just go to sleep and not wake up.
Countless nights, I put a pillow over my face and breathed
in. I remember the air getting warmer
and warmer in my lungs. It was not a
horrible feeling at all. There was
something in me that told me if I held the pillow, I’d relax in my sleep and it
would fall off. Other nights, I would
pull the blankets up over my head and squeeze them around my face and my
neck. Again, I would feel that warm
sensation creeping through my body. My
breathing slowly became more difficult.
I never panicked- I was just relaxing.
This was it. This is the way it
was going to happen. Peaceful sleep
forever. Same thoughts- no negativity
anymore. No desire to be loved. No more being made fun of at school. No more being told that I was the bad kid. But there was a different thought that
creeped in- “what about the people that DO actually love me?”. Wait, what?
Was I being selfish here? I would
let the covers loose and breathe and my body would cool down and I’d come up
from the blankets and sleep and the next morning would come. The sun would rise and I’d go to school and
see my friends who I knew accepted me for who I was and for whatever faults I had.
This was still the case in Junior High School, but of course
NOW there are added things involved. I
still hadn’t hit a growth spurt although others had. As friends were already talking about their
futures, because you already start hearing at that point how everything you do
will affect everything after high school, I was getting extra negative push
from sister and mom. “Don’t think about
college. It’s not for you. Besides us
not having money, you’re not smart enough for college anyway”. All this, yet mom was doing everything she
could to make sure my sister went to college and lived up to the dreams she
had. thoughts kept coming and going
still about how life would be without me.
More often than not, it just really seemed better if I wasn’t around. Why should I be around? I’m bad (even though I never got into trouble
outside of the house). Mom doesn’t love
me. Sister doesn’t love me. I’m apparently stupid. What’s the point of me
even existing? Oh and to top it off,
girls weren’t into me either, so I wasn’t really wanted there either. There were other things going on in my life
that I won’t go into, which also made me feel bad about myself. Again, there I
would find myself lying in bed, tossing and turning and feeling sad and alone
and depressed. Here come the blankets
again, almost like they’d creep up on their own around my face and neck wanting
me to go into that peaceful forever sleep.
Yet again, I’d think- “what about the people that DO love me? What would that do to them?”. Again, I felt selfish, which to one side
actually made me feel worse, but the other part of me became “I can’t let them
down”.
Over the years, things got better. The sun came up the next morning. The problems seemed to be not as big. The thought of non-existence, however, still
would randomly appear if I was having a difficult time. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I hate hurting people’s feelings. I hate letting people down. I try as hard as I can to make people happy,
but I’ve learned that some people, you just can’t please. I’ve had failed relationships and I’ve not
felt like I’ve had a lot of success in my working career. Life, however, does go on.
I’ve been married for over 9 years to a wonderful woman who
has really helped to teach me to accept who I am and if other people don’t like
it, oh well. I went to college and got
my degree. Even though I got negative
pushback from mother and sister about it, my motivation for success has been “do
it and do it well and piss off the haters”.
Granted, that might not be the “right” mentality, but we all have to
have something to motivate us. I haven’t
had those the thoughts of taking my own life for a long time now, or at least
not serious consideration. As I said, it
might be a fleeting thought, but I know that things are better with me here
than they would be without me. The sun
will rise the next day, life will go on, and things aren’t ever as bad as they
seem in that moment.
I feel like, even when I was little, I was strong enough to
pull myself out of darkness. I’ve had a
lot of depression over the years, but that little inkling of light and hope has
kept me going. Not everyone has
that. Not everyone can be helped or
saved. We don’t know what really is
going on in other people’s lives no matter how they present themselves outside.
When you hear someone has committed suicide, hope for their soul that they find
themselves in a better place than they felt they were in here. Don’t talk about them negatively. Don’t call them a coward. It’s okay to question why they did what they
did, but don’t frown upon them.
Appreciate what they’ve given the world during the time they were
here.
If, however, you are in that really dark place and feel
there’s no way out, the best thing to do is reach out to someone for help. It doesn’t have to be someone close to
you. Sometimes you just need an
ear. Sometimes you just need for someone
to tell you there’s that light and that the world is better with you here than
it is without you. There are plenty of
resources to help. If you need that help
or hope, please reach out.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255
The Lifeline (Twitter): @800273TALK
