This is not something we typically want to talk about.  It seems it comes up only when somebody is contemplating it.  These thoughts are bottled up until they can no longer stay bottled up.  And then the unthinkable happens.

I once read that the mortality rate from suicide amongst transsexuals is 50%.  This is a subject that needs to be addressed, over and over.

I don't want this thread to be about me but I must start it with my own experiences and the more we share our experiences the more people we potentially help. 

In June of 2004 I ended a ten year suppression.  I kept Julie bottled up totally and completely.  I had convinced myself it was for the good of my children who were just entering puberty.  I thought it would help my marriage thrive too.  And I didn't think it was that big a deal to do.  I was dead wrong on all accounts!

I knew Be-All was held here most years and I asked my wife if she was okay with me going.  The look of surprise on her face was later verbally confirmed when she told me she thought I was "cured".  With her approval (what else could she say?) I went.  It was absolutely wonderful!  From Friday afternoon to Sunday morning I was me, but I had no idea that I was being me, I thought I was being Julie, an alter ego, or something like that.

Sunday morning I awoke still dressed from the night before.  I didn't have much for clothes then and I just couldn't go back to Jim any sooner than necessary.  Then I began to pack.  Checkout time was 11 AM, only an hour away.  All of the sudden reality hit.  I had to go back to being Jim and keeping Julie bottled up.  I couldn't bear the thought.  I dropped to the floor and cried... for three full hours.  I stopped only because I knew I had to.  I could have cried for days.  Then I realized I can't keep Julie in a bottle any longer and I called my wife and told her that.  She told me I needed help but didn't say it in a loving caring way, she was yelling at me like a parent would to a rebellious teenager.  All I wanted to hear was, "Jim, I love you.  Come home.  Everything will be okay."  It would have meant the world to me.  It was what I needed.  But she's never been strong person emotionally.  When things get tough she calls in somebody else to handle it.  Her response left me feeling she didn't care about me, that our marriage was a farce.

What followed was the worst time of my life.  Divorce, my kids not wanting to be around me, and one son not even talking to me.  He'd walk right past me like I didn't exist.  I got involved with a TG who I later realized was a coke addict.  I did coke back in the early 80's.  It was expensive then and considered a harmless luxury drug so I thought nothing of it when she offered me a line.  What I loved about it was I was able to stay up all night and enjoy being Julie longer.  It became part of my Julie outings. 

About a year & a half ago I was out all night, again.  I was out of work then, my marriage was coming to an end and family life was already destroyed so I saw no reason to pretend anymore.  I was just expressing my femme self, so I thought.  I got home around 6 AM and my wife was getting ready for work.  She was completely cold now and this was freaking me out.  I was drunk and high on coke that morning.  I tried to get some emotion out of her but she acted like she could care less. 

Then, out of desperation, I took some of her Zoloft pills.  I think it was six pills total.  I was laying down on the couch and as she was about to leave for work when I told her what I did.  I expected her to be concerned or worried.  That's the woman I married. a loving, caring woman.  But instead she yelled at me then left for work.  I was blown away!  I thought I could be dying here and all she could think about was she was running late for work.  I still shake my head to this day.  What was she thinking?

Thinking no one cared about me anymore I poured myself a vodka tonic and went back upstairs to get the remainder of her Zoloft.  I sat on the top of the stairs, drink in one hand and the pills in the other.  I began to take them, one at a time.  What did it matter?  No one cared about me anymore.  Not my wife, not my kids, not my siblings, not even my mother.  I had no job, no family, no friends.  I had no reason to live.

I heard the door from the garage open and soon I saw my wife standing at the bottom of the stairs.  She told me someone from work told her she'd better go back home to make sure I was okay.  She had to be told that?  (Another thing I still don't understand.) 

She saw me there with her bottle of Zoloft and a drink and yelled at me, again.  There was no love, no caring, I was just being a problem to her.  Then she said she was calling 911.  I thought about it for a minute then decided I was getting the hell out of there.  I started to walk out the door and the paramedics were already there.  I told them about being TG and about my family abandoning me and how this was just a cry for help that went unanswered.  The guy I talked to was very understanding but said we needed to go to the hospital.

I threw up on the way there which I later found rid my system any Zoloft.  But once there they had me swallow charcoal which caused me to throw up some more.  Something I don't ever want to do again.  I was admitted to intensive care and hooked up to a gazillion machines.  Going to the bathroom, I looked like the bionic man.  The next day they stationed a guard in my room.  I asked him why and he said to make sure I don't try to commit suicide again.  I later found out he had nothing to do that day so they sent him to my room.  Shawn and I talked a lot and soon became close.

I decided to admit myself to the psych ward.  I feared my insurance wouldn't cover this if I went against medical advice so I agreed to follow the doctor's recommendation.  I'm happy I did.  It got me away from the bad influences in my life and helped break some very bad habits.

I was only there for three days but in that three days I had gone from totally depressed to totally happy.  I usually read self help books when I recognize that I'm down but this time I had forgotten them.  I absorbed several books while I was there.  I also participated in group sessions and soon found myself helping others with their problems.  I wondered if I had missed my calling.  The day I left, Shawn walked me out of the hospital.  He said he wished I didn't have to go.  We hugged and I knew I made a friend for life.

What I learned from this experience is no one benefits from suicide.  If you are successful, you leave behind countless people who now have a hole in their heart.  And they will have to live with that their entire life. 

Suicide is a selfish act.  The only thing it accomplishes is adding more pain to the lives of those who love you.  And no matter what you are feeling, there are many people who will be hurt by your death, especially when it's from your own hand. 

I also learned escaping with drugs and alcohol doesn't solve anything.  It only postpones the inevitable and adds even more to one's problems. 

It was a tough time in my life but I survived and I learned a lot.  If my experience can prevent even one suicide it was more than worth going through all I did.

I hope others will share their experience with suicide.  Maybe together this will help someone and prevent another suicide attempt.

I so sorry you had to experience this Julie. *HUGS*  Having an understanding (even if not supportive) can make all the difference in the world.  I'm glad you are still alive and finally transitioning.

Quote from: Julie Marie on September 10, 2006, 09:26:02 AM
What I learned from this experience is no one benefits from suicide...The only thing it accomplishes is adding more pain to the lives of those who love you.  And no matter what you are feeling, there are many people who will be hurt by your death, especially when it's from your own hand.

A very profound statement indeed.  And sometimes you don't even really realize this until somebody you love attempts suicide themselves.

Melissa

Hi Julie Marie,

I'm sorry for this and I understand very much your experience.

Quote from: Julie Marie on September 10, 2006, 09:26:02 AM

Suicide is a selfish act.  The only thing it accomplishes is adding more pain to the lives of those who love you.  And no matter what you are feeling, there are many people who will be hurt by your death, especially when it's from your own hand. 

What you say is totally right and it is something I agree totally. Morever I tell that I was used to think and to say that suicide is essentially an act of cowardly. But I would be a liar if I tell you that it is something I have never seriously considered in my life, however when I have been *very* depressed. I have to say that the love I have for the few SO that give a meaning to my life is what stopped me.
What I fear the most is depression. When I got depressed the perspective of my life looks totally different and what is usually rationally clear become very obfuscated. In my experience, I can say I am still alive because till now the balance between the negative feelings induced by depresion and the sum of positive ones has never been negative.
So, now I never undestimate the sings of depression and I have someone to seek help and advice when clouds are covering my sky.

P.S.
My English is poor so, if you like, feel free to correct coarse mistakes via e-mail, thanks!

Oh! Julie!
You just shut that door in my face.

Jillieann

Julie,

It's good to share your experiences.  You get it out and there is a release.  I agree with you hon. 

Unfortunately, for those of us that are successful, the cry for help is usually never expressed.  A friend, a husband, a loved one just ends up dead.  In some cases, those left behind don't have a clue.

I do know that many of us here have experiences similar to yours.  We are embarrassed to share.  We don't want people to know of our weakness.  And for those who have not tried it, we have contemplated it, we have planned it, it is a path we consider viable.

I know that you will never consider this again.  It's not in your personality now.  I don't know what it takes to elevate us to that next plateau; where the machine shifts gears. AT that point there is no going back.  But that change happens and it has happened to you.

I too encourage everyone who reads this thread to take care of this if you have a problem. If you even consider suicide on occassion, please make sure you discuss it with your therapist. Believe me, it is a common theme.  It is not unusual.  They will not condem you for it.  They can only help you.

If you haven't read "Rise from the fall" in my Chronicles, please do so.  There are 5 parts.

https://www.susans.org/forums/index.php/board,107.0.html

This is my personal account of my time in the looney bin.  It starts out pretty bad... but I'll tell you in advance there's a good ending. I see no need to repeat any of it here.

Julie, I'm thrilled that you have found us here.  You bring a special spirt of joy and enthusiasm which we sorely need.  So, keep it coming doll.

Cindi

I can totally relate to the "hole in the heart" left by suicide.  I knew there was something going on with my dad.  I honestly thought it was drugs.  I even attended an AA support group for families of those addicted.  On May 22, 2000 at around 4 am, my 7th wedding anniversary, I was awakened to a relentless banging.  The banging first began on my front door then moved to my bedroom window.  I immediately jumped out of bed and said "Oh my God, my dad's here" thinking this time of morning he would be so messed up that this couldn't be good.  I looked out the window and couldn't make out who was there.  Then a flashlight shone up on the two police officers.  I fell to the ground and said "Oh my God, my dad is dead".  With my husband's help, I made it to the livingroom where he showed the officers to me.  We were told that my dad had been in the hospital for two days.  He had shot himself in the head and survived, if that's what you want to call it.  We got ready and dropped the baby off with the sitter and headed for our anniversary in Hell! 

My father was in and out of consiousness.  I think he was aware we were there.    There were bullet fragments sitting in a specemin jar in the hospital window.  The detective came to collect them.  It was then we found out about my dad's other life.  Not the FtM life.  We already accepted that.  We learned that he was cheating on my step mother.  He rented a home for this other woman, had a PO box where the bills came to, the telephone was in his name.  He thought it was time for them to take their relationship to the next level so he came out to her.  She totally rejected him.  It was more than he could bare.  My step mother had already broken him down over the years.  She would verbally abuse him and call him "sex change" whenever they would argue.  I imagine the rejection and hurt he felt was....more than I could ever imagine, I'm sure.  Anyway, he went out to his truck, got a gun, returned to the livingroom and shot himself. 

Pretty soon his insurance lapsed due to lack of employment.  We had already decided on comfort care for him.  There was no use keeping him alive when he would never have the ability to function more than being able to give us a "thumbs up" or "thumbs down".  He wouldn't want to live like that.  We could not afford the outrageous cobra payments so we brought my dad home under hospice care.  The nurse would come out on Saturdays and do an assessment and order our supplies/medications.  I managed an internal medicine office at the time.  During the week, my step mother would provide his basic care during the day then I would come in at night and do the physical care; change medication patches and clean and repack his bed sores. 

Almost three months later, Monday, August 16, 2000 my dad died.  That was one of the hardest days of my life.  For so long I kept asking myself "why wasn't I enough to make him want to live"  and "If I wasn't enough, why wasn't my son".  Now I know, it wasn't about me.  It still hurts.  It still hurts bad.  I smell him sometimes when I'm alone.  I'm glad I can still smell him, but it does keep that hole wide open.

Oh Gin, I just read this.  I'm so sorry you had to have such a tragic experience.  Hugs.

You are right in that suicide isn't about trying to hurt others, but to escape from the pain of our lives.  Sometimes the pain becomes so intense, it is unbearable and it clouds our thinking where the only thing we can see are all these bad things happening.  I know, because that is how I've felt when I've been suicidal.  The trick is to escape out from under those black clouds so that we can see the good in our lives once again.

Melissa

Gin, that was an eloquent story from one left behind. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Nobody should have to.

My friend's son killed himself at 14 and all of us wondered what more we could have done. It was heartbreaking. The truth is, nothing. He didn't reach out for help, so we didn't know to give it. If I could have the knowledge I have now and go back in time, I would do everything.

Dennis

Thank you for your kind words.  I had to work very hard to come to terms with my father's death.  That doesn't mean it has stopped hurting.  It has eased, but I don't want it to stop hurting.  I think about him everyday.  Now I must move forward and work on bringing purpose to both his life and his death.  Everyone has a purpose here in this world.  I believe he died before he could fulfill his.  I am going to carry on in his name.

Ginger,
     That is way sad. I know someone who is suicidal, and I have to say it is a helpless feeling when you know that one day they just might do it, and you can't change that. The one's they love are suppose to be enough to mske them want to stay alive, and work things out. I guess they just don't know how. Thanks for sharing that, I am so sorry for your loss.

                                              Marco

I hope others will share their experience with suicide.  Maybe together this will help someone and prevent another suicide attempt.
=================
\if I thought for 10 seconds...someone would benefit....just 1 person...I would give precise details of the event of feb 1973...when the ole man used the shotgun...but I fear the house censors would not allow it.

lemme say this much...
it ain't pretty.

Hi Julie

Here is a post I made in another forum on May 12, 2004.

Quote from: Elizabeth May 2004

Last night was not real good. I could not get to sleep and was really depressed. I was thinking like my old self. I was feeling ashamed, and regretful. I was thinking about how humiliating this was going to be for my children as they grow up. And basically to accept me, you would have to accept the humiliation. I decided that it was not fair of me to put that on them. They could cash in my life insurance, I could end the pain of both my illness and being a transsexual. So I took about 20 vicodine. And 30 mins after that, I took about 15 more. But I never fell asleep. And at 6:00 my wife woke the children up and I went from the couch to the bedroom. I don't know why 35 vicodin did not kill me. I mean I never checked to see how much it takes, but it said not to exceed 6 in a 24 hour period. Anyway, at about 7:00 am i told my wife because i was getting nauseous and and I was not dead. Obviously she wanted me to go to the hospital but I talked her out of it, because they will take my pain medication away, and she knows how hard it is for me without it.
I have spent the day throwing up and sleeping and feel much better now. I have also been thinking about what happened to me. It is really mental. My male personality was willing to die, to kill Elizabeth. That is what really happened. But he could not keep control, and I told my wife. And now I feel like I have a split personality almost. Like it is Elizabeth and my male persona. And as I look back in time, I can clearly see what peronality was doing what. Elizabeth was always suppressed, but she was still there. I am sure you all know what I mean. I think the suicide attempt was the last try to stop her from emerging. Anyway, I feel this duality now, and am attemting to deal with it the best I can. Any thoughts or experiences would be greatly appreciated.
Elizabeth

This was when I was first coming out of denial and facing the loss of my marriage and children most likely.  I had already had to quit working because of illness.  I knew I could not keep it a secret any longer and I was not going to be able to keep living as a man.

How things can change.  SS approved my disability, two of my kids stayed with me and all of them accept my transsexuality.  I won almost all of the marrital property.  I met and subsequently married a wonderful and accepting woman that I just adore and she claims to adore me and has no problem with me transitioning.  I have gone back to college and got goverment grants that help pay for it. Between my SS and Pell grants, I almost make as much money as I did before I became disabled.

I am living my dream.  I am married to an accepting woman and feel tremendous love in my life, I am living as a woman and I am going to college to become a lawyer.  Everything I always dreamed of doing.  But had I succeeded in killing myself that fateful day, I would have missed the best part of my life. And if all that were not enough, I know the best is yet to come.

Love always,
Elizabeth

Veronica06....
  You are Correct ! they can't take that here... people like you and I have to bite our toung and use "GOOD WORDS" <grin>
... we must keep it clean for all... even though Life isn't purdy ... its the price we pay to post here !.... <GRIN>
...
  My experience with Suicide was a bit diferent... Not because of Gender ishues as I am happy being who I am.... its just that I am unable to "work for somebody" anymore...
I know this may sound strange, and I got the impression that the doctor thought it was odd as well, but it was as serious as a hart attack...
Depression ?  Man I didn't even reconise what the word ment at the time... I was too busy liveing, trying to pay the bills with too little of income comeing in and too much going out.... oddly enough ...just like it is today ! <grin> but to make a long story short... I was fed up...angry and totally hateing my job...but I had to work... thats what men do... they go to work and provide for their families... well I couldn't do that any more...every day was torture.... all day long... And I couldn't say what I was thinking or I'ed get fired again, and I have been fired from every job in the county as it was for being truthfull... but Bosses don't want the truth they want sheep, so I had to be a sheep..and it was killing me ...
I can't express how much I hated the idea of going to work another day... but I would have done anything to have someone take my place so I could stay home... but that wasn't about to happen... so On my way to work one morning I pulled off to the side of the road
to let some faster trafic pass and take a short brake... and I got to thinking why not end it ? its easy... it'll be fast( or should be) and i won't have to go to work...
it seamed such a wonderfull idea... one bullet and no more problems.... that'll show those jurks at work how stupid they realy are... after all I can go on like this for the rest of my life... there is no end in sight, the bills keep getting deeper and the money less and less,  no one would miss me , and I wouldn't have to face this stuff any more.
the gun was in my hand the round in the chamber and the safty purpusly switched off...
I sat there for a good 20 minutes stareing at the pistle in my lap... with my hand on the grip and finger on the trigger, all i had to do was do it... and I wasn't afrade...
oh contrair ! Infact I wanted to do it !... but an empty ness filled me at that moment..
no bills No hate for work or life in general... just the gun in my hand and silance...
then it hit me what I was doing.... I hadn't even realised it up to that point, not realy
because up to that point I was fixing a problem...in my usual Gutsy "Helbent for lether" way.... I thought well heck if killing myself will cure the problem then lets do it !
and I could without any reservations... except that doubt in the back of the mind
what if    what if....  what if I do Kill myself ? then what ?  the wife will be sad, yah yah, I know all that, all those that love me will be devistated at my untimely demize !  I know that already !  thats not enough reason ?  NO its not... I can't do this any more... then seak help stupid because what your trying to do is no answer. ...
these were my thoughts... the tears were clouding my vision and I saw the logic in the last thought... I put the gun away and drove to town... crying most of the way... but i didn't go to work I went to my doctor... when I was called into his little room and he finally arrived he said what can I do for you today Bob...? I said well its like this...
and explained what happened on the way in this morning... so I'm seaking help Doc what can ya tell me ... he said quit your job , I said I already did that... 
a year later and a dozen doctor visits later I was on SSI and classed as disabled
you cannot amagon how good that felt to finally be on SSI so I didn't have to go find another job. 
.....
  You don't have to be a TS or have gender ishues to make you vulnerable to suiside...
and it is NOT a cowards way out  in my view, it takes alot of gutts to do yourself in...
and Yes I could have and still Can do it if I realy wanted to . but I don't want to Now...  its like I've been reborn and every day is a new day... i still have the nasty bills and too little of income comeing in to cover them, but I've learned not to care !
Killing myself that morning would not have cured a thing.... it would have only put me out of my misery for the time being... I would have devistated my family because they had no idea I was having problems at all. 
  I won't say that life is a bed or roses now because its still a royal pain in the backside at times....  but at least I don't have to go to work for a liveing and face that torture every day. so in that respect Life is now worth liveing where it wasn't before ! ....
  Suiside is no answer ! to contemplate it means you should seek help ! and there is Help out there !   help I had no idea exhisted. 
....
Bob......

My neighbour just tried to hang himself in the garage yesterday. He had no pulse and wasn't breathing when his wife found him and cut him down. He seems to be alright, physically, but he's under care at the moment. Seeing her face after she found him really brought home to me how horrible suicide is for the people left behind.

That was his second attempt that I know of. I really hope he finds a way to deal with his depression.

Dennis

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My neighbour just tried to hang himself in the garage yesterday. He had no pulse and wasn't breathing when his wife found him and cut him down. He seems to be alright, physically, but he's under care at the moment. Seeing her face after she found him really brought home to me how horrible suicide is for the people left behind.

That was his second attempt that I know of. I really hope he finds a way to deal with his depression.

Dennis
===============

hey?  write me email..i'll tell ya MY experience............1st hand..........

The odd and scary thing is that people who are *successful* at suicide rarely give any warning. People who constantly "attempt" and threaten it are usually pleading for help, it seems - they haven't given up.

My best friend from around 12-14 put a gun to his head and killed himself (he had recently moved away). No warning. No notes. He didn't seem depressed to me when I knew him, wasn't outwardly sad, distraught, nothing.

My coworker's son put a shotgun in his mouth two years ago and pulled the trigger. He was the jokester of the family, always making everyone laugh, and always wearing a smile. No note. No clues. No obvious depression. No warning signs. The suicide was shocking enough, but the brutality of the method he chose was disturbing... as his family did love him. They got along. So why he felt a need to make such a statemtent... to punish them by forever etching that image in their minds... no one knows.

I've never seriously contemplated it. Oh, I do understand the dispair, the trapped feeling with no hope, no future. But at some point, *so far*, a circuit breaker will snap in my mind and... I keep going. I lived long enough to know that You Just Never Know. In fact, the mantra I chant every day, ending every negative thought with is...

"And yet..."

That's what I'm thinking Kate, that it was a cry for help. Otherwise he would have chosen a place he wouldn't be found or he would have done it when she wasn't home. She works and he's retired, so there would have been plenty of opportunity otherwise.

The fact that he nearly succeeded is scary though. I'm going to make more of an effort to go over and talk to him. Usually we just chat when I'm walking the dog past his place or we're both working in the same areas in our yards.

Dennis

Well, the closest I ever came was on the night of Wednesday May 10, 2006.

The previous monday, I found out the marriage was definitely over.  I was in pain for the next 2 days.  On Wednesday, I had had a really hard day.  That night, my gender dysphoria was really intense and coupled with the pain I was going through with my marriage being over, I intended to kill myself.  The pain had become too intense.  I was ready to die right then.  I told my wife I was going to kill myself and she was like "whatever", because she decided not to take me seriously.  So, I left the room and I took a big torque wrench and smashed one of those corelle plates that are really sharp when broken and was about to slash my wrist. It cuts better than a razor. I took a larger sliver and went downstairs to cut myself beyond repair. My ex heard the plate break and ran down in time to stop me.  She had to forcefully take the piece out of my hand before I could cut myself. I left the house after that. That was the closest I have ever come to really killing myself.  Afterwards, I went out in the car and drove around for a while.  The pain stayed with me.  As far as I was concerned, I had died and I was living a new life.

Melissa

I killed myself a couple of times.  It didn't take.  So I finally gave up trying.

Cindi

I have been there to... the scar on my neck not from my tracheal shave, but from the rope I tried to hang myself with.

A constant reminder of how wrong I was. It was so easy to give in, try and take my life.

The hard, courageous thing was accepting and moving forward.

I am glad I did that.

Becky