Suicide …Another Blog Saturated in the Linkin Park Tragedy

Nearly 25% of human on earth face or will face mental illness in their lifetime. I am part of that statistic. I know, I’m ballsy or crying for help admitting this, or so you think.

Native Americans¬†have a high suicide rate, add me to that statistic as well. It’s okay go ahead and speak for me. Tell me how I’m feeling…

Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Are you done? Good.

Growing up I lost a lot of friends, I remember walking home one day, I was with my cousin Aly. Our friend Josh. He said as we walked along that pavement. “The only way you’ll get off the rez, is if you die or you’re white.” I remember laughing it off.

But as more and more friends in my circle died, the lasting effects started to take a toll on me. Suicide, murder, drinking, overdoses, stupid accidents kept taking life after life.

I always kept a small glimmer of hope in my pocket. I always said, “I’m going to be something bigger, I’m not this.”

My other pocket kept my traumatic¬†experiences, the type of feelings that cannot be removed. No matter how many times I changed my pants it’s always that damn pocket.

I carried both these things and finally at 24, I broke. I sought help. I was medicated. I was tired. I was …suicidal?

This …part of life … was eye opening.

Everyone knows the commercials for medicine for mental health. The side effects list is longer than my black book. (sorry had to put some light in here, kinda dark in here)

I fought with my therapist and life coach. I didn’t want to take any drugs to feel better, they tried the whole ‘go to church’ bit. But we all know that ain’t happening.

I finally gave in after she explained my PSTD and Anxiety was like an infected leg. You can’t just put a band-aid on it and expect it to heal. You have to take antibiotics. I gave in

Two months into the medication. I started to feel …how do I explain… I guess, out of control. Not like fly off the handle ‘What the hell happened to Shannon?’ type deal. More like, driving home from school and my brain would say, “You can kill yourself on top of that hill and no one would notice.”

Any one who knows me, KNOWS I’m not like that. AT ALL. I called my boyfriend at the time and told him how I was feeling. I told him I was scared of myself. Not only was I scared of life, but now myself.

I could hear that it scared him too.

I stopped taking the pills.

I tried natural coping mechanisms. To this day those intrusive thoughts are still there. But I work to cope with it.

I don’t know how any one else feels, I only know what I feel. I cannot speak for anyone else. I can’t tell someone how to feel.

I can only cope with my feelings and emotions. I can’t stress to the human race that your feelings on a situation mean NOTHING to NO ONE but YOURSELF.

Over 7,500,000,000 people on earth and I have control over 1 brain and I only speak for one brain.

The social media comments and for fuck’s sake the suicide hotline copy/paste status. Jesus.

Imagine the person you love most dying (forget the circumstances), imagine never saying goodbye. Imagine their smile.

Seriously, imagine their smile.

Now picture some random internet asshole saying,

“Aint nobody on here said anything about it being funny, but you depressed people think that suicide is the only cure for depressions, if that is the case then why are you still suffering with depressionb why not do the only cure you guys know of allready” – real facebook comment

“Cmon man…really? A coward takes his life like the rest have done recently and we are to feel sorry for him and them? He had everything. More than I’ll attain ever. He’s heard the stories, and knew that he could reach out. He was a coward! He let’s his kids and wife down cause he sucked. Be a fucking man!”

“Shocked? ..Really? Lol the only thing shocking is how fuckin long it took him to man up and do it.”

“He CHOSE to kill himself and everyone thinks it’s a tragedy?
He CHOSE to give up and leave everyone and everything behind
I refuse to mourn this man, even if he has been one of my favorite singers.”

What gives the idea that this is the moral and right thing to do? They have no earthly idea what this person was feeling or thinking.

Making gross comparisons of their lives. “His life was perfect compared to my shitty life, he wouldn’t last 1/4 mile in my shoes.”

I just don’t understand any of this. If you feel like you need to tell some else how to feel, let me just give you the perfect advice.


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