TL;DR: Don't judge what you don't understand. And always ALWAYS err on the side of compassion. 
Or if they decide the help isn't helping.
I have a different perspective on suicide than most here and that's okay. But I'm telling you guys, if you've never lived someone else's life you have no business judging.
I know, because I used to be like some of y'all. "There's help" and "nothing's so bad you need to do that" or "tomorrow will be better".
Well ... Yeah ... Until there is no help, just the same old talking points over and over and over.
And maybe it doesn't seem that bad to you, but how would you know?? You haven't lived my life, just like I haven't lived yours.
And just how many tomorrows does someone have to suffer through??
The first time I ever had a suicidal thought I was in my mid-40s, all my problems had been solved by: me landing a spectacular job and buying my own home, my marriage to Grumpy and my kids growing up and leaving home.
By all accounts my life was FINALLY perfect and I had everything I'd ever dreamed of.
An adverse reaction to my blood pressure medication has me absolutely convinced my purpose here has been fulfilled and I was ready to move on to whatever was on the other side. I spent WEEKS researching how to do the deed. Nobody had a clue. I guess it's a good thing I trusted Grumpy as much as I did because his first clue I was planning to kill myself was when I took him to lunch and asked him to help me figure out how to do it without leaving a mess for him to clean up. How much sense does THAT make??
Well, when I take Attenolol apparently it makes perfect sense. 
Changed my meds and I was back to my old self -- generally happy to still be on this side.
Fast forward to about 4 years ago now and I found myself unable to do ANYTHING for myself and doctors telling me that what I had could quite possibly be as good as I was gonna have it for the rest of my life. I've dealt with chronic pain issues my entire life but chronic pain like what I had pre-tree was NOTHING like what I have now. Plus I was having to ask for help with EVERYTHING. I'm not the person that asks for help every time things don't go my way. I'm the person who sucks it up and figures out a way to get it done.
Not saying that to make any of you guys feel sorry for me -- just is what it is. But I had always said that there was a certain quality of life that I was NOT willing to live without. I will not be a burden to those I love. Nor do I expect them to bankrupt themselves keeping me alive. And for the first couple of years after my accident, every morning I weighed the burden I was to Grumpy versus the pain I would cause him by taking my own life. Good or bad, though I considered taking my own life again, I never reached that invisible point of no return that anyone who considers suicide finds themselves up against.
I am NOT suicidal. What I am is pragmatic. I may have never considered suicide as a viable option after my accident if I hadn't experienced the side effects of that medication. There is really no way to tell. What I do know is suicide had NEVER crossed my mind before taking Attenolol but now that that seed has been planted, it seems like it is just part of my thought process now. I now KNOW without a shadow of a doubt that there ARE situations that I WILL ask for help to end my life -- a diagnosis of ANY dementia-type illness is one. And if the medical establishment isn't willing to help me, then I will say my goodbyes and just do it myself. I am not worried about suffering. That ship sailed every morning when I stagger to the medicine cabinet to get my pain meds. But I will NOT be a burden to my husband. And I will NOT ruin him financially just so I can spend one more day here.
We all are gonna die. I want those who love me to be able to look back at my life with them and understand that I left not because I wanted to leave them, but because I didn't want to be a burden to anyone.
I can say with the utmost certainty that anyone who has committed suicide is not do it because they were weak. Or selfish. If they were guilty of anything, it was of loving their family so much, that right or wrong, they thought they were doing the best they could for their family.
Or if they decide the help isn't helping.
I have a different perspective on suicide than most here and that's okay. But I'm telling you guys, if you've never lived someone else's life you have no business judging.
I know, because I used to be like some of y'all. "There's help" and "nothing's so bad you need to do that" or "tomorrow will be better".
Well ... Yeah ... Until there is no help, just the same old talking points over and over and over.
And maybe it doesn't seem that bad to you, but how would you know?? You haven't lived my life, just like I haven't lived yours.
And just how many tomorrows does someone have to suffer through??
The first time I ever had a suicidal thought I was in my mid-40s, all my problems had been solved by: me landing a spectacular job and buying my own home, my marriage to Grumpy and my kids growing up and leaving home.
By all accounts my life was FINALLY perfect and I had everything I'd ever dreamed of. An adverse reaction to my blood pressure medication has me absolutely convinced my purpose here has been fulfilled and I was ready to move on to whatever was on the other side. I spent WEEKS researching how to do the deed. Nobody had a clue. I guess it's a good thing I trusted Grumpy as much as I did because his first clue I was planning to kill myself was when I took him to lunch and asked him to help me figure out how to do it without leaving a mess for him to clean up. How much sense does THAT make??
Well, when I take Attenolol apparently it makes perfect sense. Changed my meds and I was back to my old self -- generally happy to still be on this side.
Fast forward to about 4 years ago now and I found myself unable to do ANYTHING for myself and doctors telling me that what I had could quite possibly be as good as I was gonna have it for the rest of my life. I've dealt with chronic pain issues my entire life but chronic pain like what I had pre-tree was NOTHING like what I have now. Plus I was having to ask for help with EVERYTHING. I'm not the person that asks for help every time things don't go my way. I'm the person who sucks it up and figures out a way to get it done.
Not saying that to make any of you guys feel sorry for me -- just is what it is. But I had always said that there was a certain quality of life that I was NOT willing to live without. I will not be a burden to those I love. Nor do I expect them to bankrupt themselves keeping me alive. And for the first couple of years after my accident, every morning I weighed the burden I was to Grumpy versus the pain I would cause him by taking my own life. Good or bad, though I considered taking my own life again, I never reached that invisible point of no return that anyone who considers suicide finds themselves up against.
I am NOT suicidal. What I am is pragmatic. I may have never considered suicide as a viable option after my accident if I hadn't experienced the side effects of that medication. There is really no way to tell. What I do know is suicide had NEVER crossed my mind before taking Attenolol but now that that seed has been planted, it seems like it is just part of my thought process now. I now KNOW without a shadow of a doubt that there ARE situations that I WILL ask for help to end my life -- a diagnosis of ANY dementia-type illness is one. And if the medical establishment isn't willing to help me, then I will say my goodbyes and just do it myself. I am not worried about suffering. That ship sailed every morning when I stagger to the medicine cabinet to get my pain meds. But I will NOT be a burden to my husband. And I will NOT ruin him financially just so I can spend one more day here.
We all are gonna die. I want those who love me to be able to look back at my life with them and understand that I left not because I wanted to leave them, but because I didn't want to be a burden to anyone.
I can say with the utmost certainty that anyone who has committed suicide is not do it because they were weak. Or selfish. If they were guilty of anything, it was of loving their family so much, that right or wrong, they thought they were doing the best they could for their family.
