I’ve written about suicide a lot and on those threads I hear it all the time: “I’m too much of a coward to kill myself,” or, “I wish I were braver so I could commit suicide.”
I understand these thoughts and I think they’re very common and normal. When you’re in unbearable pain, it feels like suicide is necessary. And if you’re not achieving a necessary thing, you feel like a failure. And because of the nature of suicide – because it is scary – people feel like the reason they are “failing” is because they are a coward.
This is not true, however. Cowardice has nothing to do with killing yourself or living. You are not a coward for not killing yourself.
Dying is Easy, Living is Hard
What people don’t remember is that dying is the easy part – it happens once and then it’s over – it’s living that is very hard. You are not a coward for choosing not to kill yourself, you are being brave. You are bravely facing down the darkness and the pain. This takes no small amount of strength. Even if you don’t feel strong – because I know how weak being suicidal makes you feel – really you are strong. Survival shows your strength.
Killing Yourself Is an Act of Cowardice
Now, some would say that killing yourself is actually the act of cowardice. Some would say that not standing up and facing life is a cowardly thing to do. Some would say that people who commit suicide actually take the easy way out.
Well, I’m not sure I would say those things. There is nothing easy about suicide on any side of the equation and people who attempt suicide certainly don’t need insults, like being called a coward, hurled at them when they already feel bad enough about their suicide attempt. I would say that suicide is an act of illness. Killing yourself is more a symptom of a disease than anything else.
Stand Up and Fight – You Are Not a Coward
And the thing is, by beating yourself up and calling yourself a coward for not killing yourself you are not doing yourself any favours. Beating yourself up is natural when you’re depressed but I encourage you to let this insult go as it’s simply not true. Suggesting that you are a coward for living is just a lie that the disease tells you. People are not brave when they run away from their problems, they are brave when they stand up and fight. And you are a fighter. I know this because you’re here, you’re alive and you’re reading this right now. Fight the pain. Fight the disease. Fight the bipolar. Fight the depression. Fight for your life.
So no, you are not a coward for not killing yourself. You are sort of a hero.
You’re right. Killing yourself is the easy part. Thank you.
I am definitely a coward. All I do is live off of other people’s generosity and give my family headaches. My own mother hates me. I don’t want to be a part of society, I don’t want anything. Just wish my mother had the sense to abort me and save everyone a lot of trouble.
It takes constant courage to not take the step out the door to oblivion. I don’t end it all because my wife says she could not stand being without me. She is a nurse and she has had a couple bouts with depression herself. The other thing is if I chose suicide, my children may see it as permission to do the same.
I am so tired.
Several years ago I discovered that a high number of my Army colleagues have committed suicide since we all served overseas. A hard year followed and I had a breakdown – I have been diagnosed first with anger management, then Bipolar, then Paranoid Personality Disorder, then PTSD with Hypomania and finally schizoid personality disorder. The last specialist I saw said I definitely didn’t have PTSD and suggested a mild form of Bipolar made complex by events.
Through all this my medication has been antidepressants and quetiapine. I have just come off the antidepressants and onto a stronger Quetiapine dose and all the repressed/avoided feelings of suicide have flooded back. Tiny things are overblowing my system, I’ve wasted huge sums on grand ideas and collections I now have little time for, and what was flashes of memory have become hauntings of places and people some from my service, some from dreams of the future, some from childhood. I sleep like the dead, but have dreams of the dead. Last night I was running through ruins as H-bomb flashes spiralled my shadow across the rooms. I was trying to get somewhere and trying to encourage others to go with me but it all felt hopeless.
I’m sitting here shaking, mind racing knowing its three hours until my wife gets home and I’ve got to slap the lying face on again and pretend for my kids. The overwhelm is tainted in that I don;t know what’s wrong with me – which MH expert am I supposed to believe – can the meds and therapy cover all the possible variations?
The meds have left me exhausted unable to hold down a job, I’ve put on three stone in six months and am now being investigated for gout and diabetes. I don’t understand what all these shrinks are getting at. I don’t seem to be on their worry list as they have all passed me back to my GP, even the veterans charity.
I’ve done all this fearsome work to try and get into a good place and it still seems as far away as ever. My fear is that suicide just seems like a rational decision like taking the meds or seeing the doctor. My fight always came from legs – the spring into action was the starting gun, they feel like lead pipes and my body is following.
It’s not a question of cowardice or strength. It’s just an option. If it was;t for notes I’ve left for myself in rare good moods, I would’ve done it. I find these notes that say ‘you don’t want to do it’ ‘remember you want to see the girls graduation’ but even now what chance have the kids got with a leaden sick dad around?
I really do hate it when people who have never been in the situation of wanting to end there life, so they think they can use sentences like “Your a coward if you kill yourself” What if you had such horrible social anxiety you don’t even like speaking to your own parents what if you were so depressed that you barely eat, barely sleep and sit in your room for 24 hours a day doing nothing thinking about how all you’re doing with your life is wasting your parents money by living off them, thinking about what’s going to happen in 10 years. Will i be doing the same thing i mean im only 16 and im so tired and bored of life and the democracy that we life in today, that i can’t be fucked anymore , In my opinion this “This isn’t life this is prison”.
@Bas you should be proud of yourself mostly people who suffers the same disease will end up taking their lives. Find a hobby that you enjoyed then live with us it’s not “YOLO” because your living every day, every time you wake up each day.
I feel with you Michael. I have been thinking about that for a while. They( my parents ) made the decision to make me. But haven’t been able to get the picture why. Tried to take my life several times since I was 14 years old. Still i don’t know why i still live. Hang on. And get help if you are not feeling well.
Hi
Just to inform how severe this suicide was was in in ICU -1 MONTH.
THATS VERY SERIOUS.
Hoping this will hit all ages that are grasping will these thoughts.
Thnx for listening,my heart hurts.
Sandra in bipolar Cyberspace
I am a suicide survivor,myself.
I don’t recall much about my last attempt,only that it was it was severe enough to warrant to stay in ICU.
Not being able to walk,tubes all over me…
Anyway,every lunch hr ( as her work was very close to hospital) she’d come…at first it was only notes..due to
The tubes.( my sibling)
The happiest day,tube out,we could talk she brought a giant teddy bear ( this occurred near Xmas) I wept
Plus,Dad was sick ( she kept from me…
Anyhow,I looked at into her eyes,the burning pain…
I thought,ok yes I understand I will have suicidal feelings,but I can’t act upon them”..
I think after that,that horrendous attempt,our relationship changed.
She gets angry shorter fused less patient with me….
My point is just think before you lash out,
Think before you use whatever method you choose to end it.
As once your gone,you can’t have a change of heart…
Or,if like me left a formerly good relationship to ambivalent & paranoid & negative one.
Talk to your psych,if you need hospital,ok ,so what?
Better than doing what I I did,I assure you.
Calling someone for help,is never WEAK but STRONG ….LIKELY save YOUR LIFE.
Yes,this I agree this illness is shit
But at least we have a place where we can share,which I,find comforting.
I can just BE
Peace to all,Sandra in Bipolar Cyberland xxxx
Thank you. This is a big help for me since I am a Christian and Bipolar which to some people can seem like an oxymoron. Some people then quickly grab whatever insult to help make sense of how that can be. My suicide planning and attempts have always come from a core belief that I do not belong here and that I want to leave. I don’t know how common that is but for me it’s like that. So when my mania or depression are fired up this belief is enhanced. I totally agree with that it is not a matter of cowardice but illness. I am not at all considering suicide today and my hope and prayers are always that I can remain symptom free so I can serve in my faith freely.
I’ve never “planned” or “tried” but I’ve thought about it when I was depressed – make that very depressed. My father committed suicide – he was in active addiction, and was no doubt very depressed. He was also in financial crisis – which is a common nail in the coffin. So, being survivors of suicide (Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s term), we have a intuitive pact in my family that none of us would ever put each other through that again. I know from my own experience – that even making a pact kind of melts away when you so beyond chronically depressed. And its hard to be patient and wait for the meds to kick in, and no one can tell you when exactly they will be doing that.
I just have a question from reading the comments (and well done everyone for persisting – i call that self-love to fight for oneself), people often say that they continue to experience cycles….is this without meds? Or does this happen with meds? My bipolar cycle was caused by a shrink changing my meds (previously just diagnosed as anxiety-depressive disorder). It took me practically a year to come right with about 6 months of hell where I cycled. Since my meds have stabilised me, I’ve not had any issues…..but when people say that they experience cycles regularly that makes me scared!
I lost my big sister to suicide, she had never tried before. Having gone through all the emotions I don’t think she was a coward, living was just too much for her. There were times when I wished I had the guts, but I’ve always found a reason to live, sometimes just one, these days it’s 4.
This is very true. Also I think it is a very good and healthy way to look at it – especially if you are or have been in that dark place with suicide staring you in the face as an option. It isn’t an option – not because of anything to do with being or not being brave really – just because you owe it to yourself to crawl up out of the dark pit and see the sun can shine on you if you have the determination to climb the hardest stretch. You might slip and fall back down sometimes, but those glimpses of the sun are sure well worth the climb!
I really like this article. This is one of my favorites of yours. We are all fighters, or else we wouldn’t be reading your blog and trying to improve our lives. Thanks for being a fighter and encouraging so many others to keep fighting!
Thank you for writing this. I really needed to hear it today!
You are brave enough by not killing yourself, but living with a bipolar/major depression is like a walking dead.
True enough BUT we know the feeling that comes with the BP depression always ends eventually. Sure, the barsteward always comes back (although not so badly *if* the meds are working even a little bit). So, the “trick” to survival is trying to hold together some patience, between when the depression starts and when it stops.
Once we survive the first “attack” of the ‘Black Dog’ we then know it *can* be survived. But I know that isn’t always enough for getting through subsequent “attacks”: Knowing the pain of the depression is going to end doesn’t lessen the pain while it’s there, and it’s that pain we want to stop, not so much Life itself. Right? (Actually, it’s not the pure BP depression that get to me – it’s those mixed episodes, the dysphoric hypo-manias that make me want the World to stop and let me get off.) Survival gets back to that “one day at a time” adage, with self-talk: “If I can just make it through today …” and not thinking ahead to tomorrow.
If someone had a horrendous pain from a horrendous “medical” illness.. no one would question their want to be “out of it”. Why can’t folks see that the pain felt by one with mental illness is as great as the one fighting pain via a medical illness?
Pain is pain. It hurts and it drains. The only way out of it is to drug yourself near to full stupidity… and well, that is not much of a way to live a life… just “being” and not living.
There are days when I look back and am amazed I’ve survived this long and not succeeded… and then there are those days where I hate myself for not.
Pain is pain and we all, each of us, do whatever it is to remove and ease the pain.. that is why I no longer judge those who self-medicate or choose to kill themselves. As selfish as they may seem to folks… the adage of “your family needs you” while they begrudge and bitch at you, ignore or avoid you, guilt and shame you… or lament of how your depressions drain them…
Seriously, if it eases the pain…
Church indoctrination and STIGMA and ignorance. The Nordic nations are far ahead of us.
thank you so much for posting…I have been struggling for a very very long time and I am not boasting but I have made several attempts of suicide but not successful…i appreciate everything you said, hopefully your honesty will be felt by others like with me…someone understands…
If you’re reading this you are a “Bipolar Survivor”, and as it’s a hell of a feat to survive this illness, pat yourself on the back for managing to stay alive in spite of the BP.
I am not a coward… I am fighting and will.. BUT…… I dont call this a life . I feel like a walking breathing piece of meat. Stark, but that how I feel.