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RIP Robin Williams

  • Thread starter Thread starter JAZZGASM
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If you are serious go talk to someone right now, someone you trust. Tell them to just shut up and listen and lay it out there. Often it helps to just have a sounding board. Find a way to get it out to someone or it can get worse.

You're probably right. But it's a lot more "harden up" as kkk gave above in here I think. And that has been what defined me. Stay tough. Don't reflect problems of work at home. Don't look weak. Don't feel sad. And all that bs. So much actually, that either I left many of my friends or they left me. Ballless ****ers. Thank God I have my wife. She is a person that I can share everything with, being also a friend back from the university days and from the same department/class, we share a common tongue.


But there is still some kind of empty feeling sometimes... Like I haven't found something I should have found yet.
 
Nope, you said suicide was selfish. And no, the two can't coexist. Perhaps in your limited mind.

There you go changing your argument again.

Spin, spin, spin.

Oh, and perhaps in your limited mind they can't coexist. See, it can go both ways.
 
My wife pushes me a lot to talk and let it out through out the entire 11 years we have been together actually, so she helps a lot.

And for anyone I would say,

talking, letting it out helps a lot.

A LOT.
 
While I agree with this generally, I can tell you that failing in my attempts I felt like a bigger coward and I felt more selfish than ever. I felt like I was depriving my wife and my kids of a husband and father that could take care of them the way they deserved. I saw men every day that prima facie did not have the same problems I did, and I knew my wife could find a better man, who would be a better father, and I felt like utter **** for not having the courage to give her that opportunity. I truly felt that my death would be a release for them as much as for me and I felt like a total failure and loser that I couldn't even do that right. It is a selfish act in retrospect, and obviously completely irrational, but at the moment, in the heat of it, it feels like you are giving those you love a blessing, and I never felt more selfish or low or cowardly or bad about myself as after a failed attempt.

I know how you felt in that respect. I've never attempted suicide, but have been that low and contemplated. I will say that a few times in life, the ONLY thing that kept me going was the hope of a HIGHER POWER and the fear that, in death, I would be told, "had you just stuck it out another day, month, year...this would have been your life..." And it was certainly the case after my first marriage ended. Took a while to meet someone else and start a family, but now I have the greatest daughter in the world. But the fight continues when life throws curve balls of physical challenges, unemployment, etc. I suspect I will never completely conquer depression, only manage to hopefully keep it at bay.
 
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[size/HUGE] boobs [/size];889254 said:
Depression is not real. It is side effect of artificial preservatives and eating packaged food. You can tell this by looking at wars. Back in the day they did not feed soldiers MREs and boxed junk. In Korean War there is no PTSD or depression and they did stuff so much more nasty than in Iraq drones war.

Eating healthy with exercise will help you become mentally strong.

First time I have ever put someone on ignore. You are truly the most ignorant person on this board.
 
...I doubt you would find many people who disagree with you the person taking his life does it with motivation similar to what Gameface posted above. However, many who commit suicide honestly feel they are taking a burden from their loved ones, that their loved ones would be much better off without them. These are people who simply aren't thinking straight. If a person does it motivated by the thought that they are making the lives of those around them better, how can that possibly be a selfish act - at least in their mind? You and I might see it as selfish because we are not dealing with the same demons they are and we can think more rationally, but if you see things from their perspective, it simply wasn't selfish as they see it.

actually, in a way I think they are thinking straight.

One of the problems with mental illness is that it is difficult to define and diagnose, and frequently there are overlapping issues. Depression is often actually one end of bipolar disorder where the "manic" phase is very low-key; there are also anxiety disorders that may be involved and there may be substance abuse complicating things further. Treatment with therapy, medication, lifestyle changes etc. help a great deal but generally there is no "cure" and for many folks, they know that feeling better will only be a temporary condition. Part of the battle is recognizing the phases in yourself and just slogging through. But I think it can get overwhelming for some who just get tired of slogging through the different phases.

Another less recognized aspect by many who haven't either experienced it themselves or known others who have, is that the illness often manifests itself in ways that might not be recognized as "mental illness" - - sleep disturbances, difficulty focusing and concentrating, excess energy, excessive risk-taking, etc. etc. etc.

I was very close to someone who took his life six years ago after a 30+ year struggle with bipolar disorder. I was one of the major "firemen" who was always called upon to rescue him and his family (i.e., provide funds and other support) after he would get into trouble in one way or another, frequently involving "get rich quick" schemes or business deals that "couldn't fail" As my own family grew and our life had its own complications, I just didn't have the energy to keep coming to the rescue the way I had been. Plus at some point, I just couldn't resolve the dilemma of thinking that he should know better than to get involved in some of the things he was doing - is it the "illness" or isn't it? Hard to say.

I do believe though that as sad and difficult as it was, he probably did his family a favor and it took real courage to do that. His family was pretty messed up and dysfunctional and at least now his wife and daughter are living productive lives that aren't focused entirely on his pathology. It's still sad though, and I wish with all my heart that there could have been a different outcome.
 
I doubt you would find many people who disagree with you the person taking his life does it with motivation similar to what Gameface posted above. However, many who commit suicide honestly feel they are taking a burden from their loved ones, that their loved ones would be much better off without them. These are people who simply aren't thinking straight. If a person does it motivated by the thought that they are making the lives of those around them better, how can that possibly be a selfish act - at least in their mind? You and I might see it as selfish because we are not dealing with the same demons they are and we can think more rationally, but if you see things from their perspective, it simply wasn't selfish as they see it.

I distinctly remember one very very bad day. I had been in a very foul mood for a few months. Normally the bad spells didn't last that long but this one was really bad. I had been angry at God for a long time. Also stress tended to set me off and I was working at amazon, and at holiday time no less, and we had just moved into a new house, so my life was nothing but stress. I wasn't sleeping and that made things worse. The last thing I wanted was to be around people, so I shunned everyone. My wife and I had been fighting, severely, for weeks.

This day it all snapped. She threatened to leave me and take my kids away from me since I "obviously didn't love them anyway". She screamed at me in our room that she deserved the man who I used to be, that she deserved a man who wanted to go to church, who loved the Lord, who honored his priesthood and wanted to be part of her kids life, one that didn't just work all the time then lock himself in the bathroom (we had an awesome jetted tub and I could stay there for hours at a time) or office and never see anyone.

The kids were in their rooms crying, I could hear them, and I knew it was all my fault. I sat on the floor with my head in my hands, with nothing to say. Tears flowed, I couldn't make a sound. I begged her to stop, told her I was sorry, told her I would be better. She said she didn't believe me. I knew she was right, about all of it. I finally stood up and went to the kitchen to get a drink, shaking all over. All I could think of was how she was right, how much damage I was causing my family. As I passed my daughter's door she had it open a crack and was peeking out. As I passed by and looked at her she recoiled as if in horror. I heard her leave her room and go into mine as I turned the corner in the hall. I got a drink of water and went back down the hall, meaning to go into my office and get on the computer and bury myself in a fake life somewhere, hide from all of this.

Outside my door I heard her talking to my wife, who was sobbing. My daughter asked if I was leaving, and my wife said she didn't know. Although I never had raised my hand against my kids in anger, my daughter then said she was afraid of me, that she didn't want a mad daddy anymore. Physical pain isn't the only kind you can inflict due to this kind of thing, and far from the worst. My wife agreed with her and didn't say anything in my defense. Finally I heard my wife ask my daughter if she wanted me to leave. In her tiny 6 year old voice she said "yes I do", and they both cried.

I immediately went into the garage, got into the car, started the motor and rolled down the windows. I wanted nothing more than to rid my family of the cancer that was me. I hoped this would be the easiest, least painful way to do it. I wrote a note, held it in my hand, and slowly faded out.

I have no idea how long I was there before my daughter came out to ride her bike and opened the garage. I woke up and had a vicious headache, and I noticed the garage was open, found out later she had opened it to go bike riding. She must have seen me there, probably thought I was asleep.

I got out of the car and slowly went back inside, but I stopped long enough to destroy the note before I did, and puke in the garbage can there. I was profoundly disappointed I was still alive. But what tore through me was the fact that my wife and kids would be even more disappointed. That they didn't want me anymore, and that I KNEW I was bad for them and they were right, they would be better off without me. I felt I had let them down by not finishing it.

I didn't think I was being selfish. I thought I was setting them free.

That was a bad day.
 
Damn. Got years in my eyes after reading that.

Thanks for sharing.

Life is precious
 
I distinctly remember one very very bad day. I had been in a very foul mood for a few months. Normally the bad spells didn't last that long but this one was really bad. I had been angry at God for a long time. Also stress tended to set me off and I was working at amazon, and at holiday time no less, and we had just moved into a new house, so my life was nothing but stress. I wasn't sleeping and that made things worse. The last thing I wanted was to be around people, so I shunned everyone. My wife and I had been fighting, severely, for weeks.

This day it all snapped. She threatened to leave me and take my kids away from me since I "obviously didn't love them anyway". She screamed at me in our room that she deserved the man who I used to be, that she deserved a man who wanted to go to church, who loved the Lord, who honored his priesthood and wanted to be part of her kids life, one that didn't just work all the time then lock himself in the bathroom (we had an awesome jetted tub and I could stay there for hours at a time) or office and never see anyone.

The kids were in their rooms crying, I could hear them, and I knew it was all my fault. I sat on the floor with my head in my hands, with nothing to say. Tears flowed, I couldn't make a sound. I begged her to stop, told her I was sorry, told her I would be better. She said she didn't believe me. I knew she was right, about all of it. I finally stood up and went to the kitchen to get a drink, shaking all over. All I could think of was how she was right, how much damage I was causing my family. As I passed my daughter's door she had it open a crack and was peeking out. As I passed by and looked at her she recoiled as if in horror. I heard her leave her room and go into mine as I turned the corner in the hall. I got a drink of water and went back down the hall, meaning to go into my office and get on the computer and bury myself in a fake life somewhere, hide from all of this.

Outside my door I heard her talking to my wife, who was sobbing. My daughter asked if I was leaving, and my wife said she didn't know. Although I never had raised my hand against my kids in anger, my daughter then said she was afraid of me, that she didn't want a mad daddy anymore. Physical pain isn't the only kind you can inflict due to this kind of thing, and far from the worst. My wife agreed with her and didn't say anything in my defense. Finally I heard my wife ask my daughter if she wanted me to leave. In her tiny 6 year old voice she said "yes I do", and they both cried.

I immediately went into the garage, got into the car, started the motor and rolled down the windows. I wanted nothing more than to rid my family of the cancer that was me. I hoped this would be the easiest, least painful way to do it. I wrote a note, held it in my hand, and slowly faded out.

I have no idea how long I was there before my daughter came out to ride her bike and opened the garage. I woke up and had a vicious headache, and I noticed the garage was open, found out later she had opened it to go bike riding. She must have seen me there, probably thought I was asleep.

I got out of the car and slowly went back inside, but I stopped long enough to destroy the note before I did, and puke in the garbage can there. I was profoundly disappointed I was still alive. But what tore through me was the fact that my wife and kids would be even more disappointed. That they didn't want me anymore, and that I KNEW I was bad for them and they were right, they would be better off without me. I felt I had let them down by not finishing it.

I didn't think I was being selfish. I thought I was setting them free.

That was a bad day.

God bless brother...
 
Apparently everyone wanted to write about Robin Williams within minutes of his death. This means I'm late, but Robin Williams was complicated so I didn't have a real take within the allotted reaction window.

Taken in the context of his suicide, I now see that the thing that has always annoyed me about Robin Williams, the extremely machine-gun joke-a-minute nature of his delivery, was desperation to be loved. Like the experience of many cocaine addictions it was not enough to be enjoyed, he had to give the experience of a lifetime and he needed to be loved every single time freshly and unironically. It is impossible to imagine that level of expectation wouldn't crush a person at some point. As Roger Ebert says "to make others unhappy is a crime; to make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts." All suicide victims, at some level, want exactly what Williams received over the last 24 hours: confirmation that they will be missed when they are gone. Such confirmation, of course, never comes during your life and can only be achieved theoretically. Unfortunately, Robin Williams committed a great crime against his wife and children searching for that last bout of acceptance.

My favorite Robin Williams movie was one in which he embraced mental illness: "The Fisher King." Sadly, the circumstances surrounding Williams' death will forever make me view my favorite scene differently as I wonder if Williams' moments of happiness were as fleeting and ephemeral as his first glimpse of Amanda Plummer in which the world seems to literally stop while people dance only to be dashed away by reality.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRDpXyZFn1Q
 
I forgot to post this for some reason:

[video=youtube_share;5CTvjwt1bvY]https://youtu.be/5CTvjwt1bvY

As a final irony Williams did this song at the Oscars because the woman who sang it in the South Park movie committed suicide about 3 weeks earlier.
 
What argument? You said suicide is selfish. I am asking why you are asking an irrational person to be unselfish. How hard is that to answer?

Jim, here's the problem with what you're saying. You seem to think that I'm trying to convince a mentally ill person that committing suicide is a selfish act to keep them from killing themselves…I'm not trying to convince them. Whether they think it is selfish or not is irrelevant.

The reason it's irrelevant is because as any healthy (mentally at least) person knows, suicide is selfish. That's all I'm saying. I certainly wouldn't tell somebody battling depression that I think it's selfish because of the logic reasons that we've talked about, but that doesn't mean that it isn't selfish.

Understand?
 
Jim, here's the problem with what you're saying. You seem to think that I'm trying to convince a mentally ill person that committing suicide is a selfish act to keep them from killing themselves…I'm not trying to convince them. Whether they think it is selfish or not is irrelevant.

The reason it's irrelevant is because as any healthy (mentally at least) person knows, suicide is selfish. That's all I'm saying. I certainly wouldn't tell somebody battling depression that I think it's selfish because of the logic reasons that we've talked about, but that doesn't mean that it isn't selfish.

Understand?
Is suicide still selfish if the person has no friends or family at all?

Is it selfish if the suicidal persons friends and family wish he wasn't in thier lives?

Just curious
 
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