Parent thinks a person can simply stab themselves in the heart to commit suicide

[thebigpigman]

I can limp if it's a short distance, but if it's a long distance I need a wheelchair (but that's also due to me possessing an unrelated condition called POTS which means I can faint whenever I stand up because my blood pressure drops so abruptly & drastically).

Really sad What drug did you take that made you jump of that floor

 

[Wrennie]

Really sad What drug did you take that made you jump of that floor

Pristiq (only 50 mg). It's an SNRI. It made me 'on edge' and simultaneously 'out-of-it'. I'd avoid it like the plague.

 

[Mentalmick]

Having thought about it it wouldn't be that difficult actually. You would just push the knife in between the ribs. You'd need a strong stomach however and it would be very painful.

 

[WhatDoesTheFoxSay?]

I had a horrific drug reaction and jumped out of the nearest open window because I wasn't in any frame of mind to properly assess the situation. The building was tall enough to permanently damage and render me a pseudo-cripple, but not high enough to kill me (I was intending to land on my head but my body involuntarily 'righted' itself at the very last moment).

Reading this chills me to the bone. There couldn't have been a more apt analogy for suicidal desperation than that written by David Foster Wallace—a trapped person jumping from the window of a burning high-rise. Surviving the fall with life-changing injuries is nothing short of having salt rubbed into one's wounds. Wrennie, my heart goes out to you. I'm sorry you're in pain, and I wish I could make you feel better.

We are often told to 'talk to someone' when we are struggling emotionally. I too, would like to open up about my suicidal feelings if there did not exist significant barriers to open, honest conversations—such as having to wrestle with shame and guilt.

I once came down with a nasty bout of hives. The itch was unbearable. Out of frustration I blurted that I wanted out, only to have my sister remind me, in protest, of the suffering I would inflict on my loved ones. While my mother acknowledges that it takes tremendous strength and resolve to overcome the instinct for self-preservation, she is nevertheless opposed to suicide, deeming it 'a foolish act'.

The pharmaceuticals we use to try and correct one problem usually inevitably create another. It's an endless cycle, and then we're prescribed more and more drugs to manage the newly arising conditions stemming from the ever-increasing number of meds we're placed on, until we can't even trace which pill resulted in what.

This. I couldn't have said it better myself. Unable to shake off the shackles of dependence as prescriptions pile up, there will come a point when one becomes the proverbial walking medicine cabinet. It's like a trading card game—Gotta collect 'em all! As someone on Reddit put it,

shove ALL of these pills down their throats everyday just for the opportunity to keep living so that they can continue to shove the pills down their throat so they can keep living to shove more pills...

To control my lupus symptoms, during my last consultation with my rheumatologist I was prescribed a new drug, the antirheumatic Sulfasalazine (SSZ). SSZ is to be taken with the existing Hydroxychloroquine (HCQ) as she thinks HCQ alone is not enough to treat arthritis. Prednisone (steroids are said to be a 'deal with the Devil') dosage was also greatly stepped up—years of tapering gone down the drain. It was a disheartening day.

 

[RedEther]

Liget sounds like their only brush with justified suicide is Romeo and Juliet.