Sadness and boredom were more bearable than the effort of living a normal life. Perhaps the idea of death began to hover over her during that period, as a kind of higher order of lassitude in which she would not have to move the blood in her veins or the air in her lungs; her repose would be absolute- not to think, not to feel, not to be.
Isabel AllendeIn addition, Dr. Dannyboy has suggested a fifth element: positive thinking. Pointing out that their breathing, bathing, dining and screwing brought Alobar and Kudra much physical pleasure, and that an organism steeped in pleasure is an organism disposed to continue, he has said that the will to live cannot be overestimated as a stimulant to longevity. Indeed Dr. Dannyboy goes so far as to claim that ninety percent of all deaths are suicides. Persons, says Wiggs, who lack curiosity about life, who find minimal joy in existence, are all too willing, subconsciously, to cooperate with- and attract- disease, accident and violence.
Tom RobbinsThe bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die.
Juliette LewisMots clés despair courage bravery suicide death-and-dying hopelessness mental-health mental-illness suicidality mental-disorder mental-health-stigma suicidal-thoughts death-wish
Enlightenment is the Goal - Love is the Game - Taking steps are the rules! - Allan Rufus
Allan RufusMots clés wisdom love knowledge self-esteem soul power-of-words mind self-help-book knowledge-teaching suicide personal-growth spirit quote soul-searching depression self-improvement knowing spiritualism positive-thoughts enlightenment anxiety personal-development sacred power-of-thoughts teachings positive-thinking positive-attitude spiritual-growth knowledge-education unconditional-love spiritual-wisdom master power-of-love know-thyself unconditional-acceptance sage mastery positive-motivation spiritual-development mind-body-spirit suicidal-thoughts positive-mindset positive-outlook sacred-teachings wise-man self-improvement-book knowing-oneself masters sage-advice knowledge-of-self positive-quotes art-of-living mind-power master-of-love art-of-dying hang-man master-key powerful-story sacred-wisdom
When the black thing was at its worst, when the illicit cocktails and the ten-mile runs stopped working, I would feel numb as if dead to the world. I moved unconsciously, with heavy limbs, like a zombie from a horror film. I felt a pain so fierce and persistent deep inside me, I was tempted to take the chopping knife in the kitchen and cut the black thing out I would lie on my bed staring at the ceiling thinking about that knife and using all my limited powers of self-control to stop myself from going downstairs to get it.
Alice JamiesonMots clés dead suicide depression zombie mental-health numb insomnia depressed unconsciousness heavy sleepless self-harm drug-abuse horror-films suicidal drug-use
Everyone thought that things were getting back to normal. They had no idea that normal didn’t exist for me any more. Normal had been smashed on the rocks beneath the bridge.
Cat ClarkeI know people think suicide is selfish, and maybe sometimes it really is. But what happened to Kai was beyond what anyone should have to cope with. I didn’t blame him, not really. It just broke my heart that I wasn’t enough to keep him here.
Cat ClarkeCheryl was aided in her search by the Internet. Each time she remembered a name that seemed to be important in her life, she tried to look up that person on the World Wide Web.
The names and pictures Cheryl found were at once familiar and yet not part of her conscious memory: Dr. Sidney Gottlieb, Dr. Louis 'Jolly' West, Dr. Ewen Cameron, Dr. Martin Orne and others had information by and about them on the Web. Soon, she began looking up sites related to childhood incest and found that some of the survivor sites mentioned the same names, though in the context of experiments performed on small children. Again, some names were familiar. Then Cheryl began remembering what turned out to be triggers from old programmes. 'The song, "The Green, Green Grass of home" kept running through my mind. I remembered that my father sang it as well. It all made no sense until I remembered that the last line of the song tells of being buried six feet under that green, green grass. Suddenly, it came to me that this was a suicide programme of the government. 'I went crazy. I felt that my body would explode unless I released some of the pressure I felt within, so I grabbed a [pair ofl scissors and cut myself with the blade so I bled. In my distracted state, I was certain that the bleeding would let the pressure out. I didn't know Lynn had felt the same way years earlier. I just knew I had to do it Cheryl says. She had some barbiturates and other medicine in the house. 'One particularly despondent night, I took several pills. It wasn't exactly a suicide try, though the pills could have killed me. Instead, I kept thinking that I would give myself a fifty-fifty chance of waking up the next morning. Maybe the pills would kill me. Maybe the dose would not be lethal. It was all up to God. I began taking pills each night. Each-morning I kept awakening.
Mots clés suicide crazy victim mental-health insane dissociation mental-illness child-abuse trauma pills survivor abuse child-sexual-abuse incest cutting mind-control dissociative-identity-disorder multiple-personality-disorder split-personality self-harm overdose mkultra dissociative extreme-abuse ewen-cameron louis-west martin-orne sidney-gottlieb
The problem with making a virtual world of oneself is akin to the problem with projecting ourselves onto a cyberworld: there’s no end of virtual spaces in which to seek stimulation, but their very endlessness, the perpetual stimulation without satisfaction, becomes imprisoning.
Jonathan FranzenMots clés solitude loneliness suicide problems depression satisfaction emptiness lonely empty boredom anxiety dissatisfaction void distractions solitary facebook david-foster-wallace stimulation jonathan-franzen robinson-crusoe endlessness virtual facebook-quotes first-world-problems cyber cyberworld facebook-addiction filler
I hear the word
in the hall
over and over again.
Suicide.
Suicide.
Suicide.
Did he or didn’t he?
Everyone’s got a guess.
Still no one knows for sure,
except Gabe,
but he’s not talking.
Why does it even matter?
He’s gone.
His, ours, theirs—
blame needs a place.
His, ours, theirs—
pain all over the place.
His, ours, theirs—
forgiveness missing from this place.
Mots clés forgiveness suicide grief blame
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