Suicide-Personal Narrative

I spent the next few days looking for these answers, searching the deepest corners of my brain for information I knew I would not find. I would never know why she did it to herself, but I longed for understanding. While she was getting treatment in the hospital, she used her one allotted phone call to call me, not her parents. Again, with fear and anxiety, I put the phone to my ear.

On 06-06-2018, at approximately 1818 hours, I was contacted by Cpl. F. Capitano, in reference to a suicide at 11513 Lake Ridge Road. Upon arrival I met with Cpl. G. Thomas, who advised what occurred. I then entered the residence with Deputy E. Palacios, who was the first deputy on scene, Deputy B. Shannon, who is the originating deputy and Crime Scene Tech S. Mawhinney, who responded to process the scene.

Surviving Suicide: A Memoir From Those Death Left Behind tells the story of one family and how they have coped with suicide.

Boom! I shook, cowering in fear under my bed as missiles whistled through the smoky air. Before heading out to school, I had been reviewing for my math midterm. I was in the midst of solving my Algebra problems, the midst of solving x. My whole world turned to a math problem. I closed my eyes and plunged into a surreal world. All I thought about is math. I was hungry to learn, and to tease my brain. Boom! My room’s window was shattered as shots were continuously fired. My eyes say a brilliant light from afar. I hugged my book, sobbed, and prayed that someone, anyone would rescue me. As I sat waiting in terror to be rescued, the war cries and x amount bullet sounds were

On February 10, 2015 I was admitted to West Regional Hospital for being suicidal. My friend, Sadye,  told the counselors about how I had temptations to drive off the road and hurt myself. I was then escorted to the hospital by two police officers. After I got to the hospital, I was met by a third police officer who took me up the elevator. When we finally arrived at the decided floor, a lady took me into a room to ask me many questions about suicide and what led me to it. After the interview, I had to wear clothes that looked like a purple prisoner-like outfit. I wasn't allowed to have any outside items like jewelry, cell phones, or even my own pair of socks. I stayed in the hospital for a little over a week, everyday I had to fill out paperwork

Imagine you are drowning, and people consistently tell you swim; yet you do not know how. That is what mental illness feels like. I was diagnosed with depression when I was twelve years old. I had constant barraging thoughts of suicide and I was rarely happy. I cut my right wrist with a pair of sharp fabric scissors that I used for making blankets. I hated myself and thought myself to be irrelevant to my family and my community. It was as if there was a crushing weight on my chest, and I was dealing with things that no twelve year old should have to deal with. My father would get angry and yell, I felt that my mother wouldn’t understand what I was going through so I withheld information from her, and I was even letting my

One Friday, I came home from work as usual at 6pm, and sat down at my dining table. I had in front of me a glass of red wine, about a hundred pills, a blade, and some alcohol pads for disinfection. I was having a fight with my boyfriend over text, who was in Charlotte at that moment for business. Once he stopped replying, I sent him a text that read, “I am going to kill myself.” Within minutes, I heard someone bang on my door. It was the police. My boyfriend had called 911 to report my potential suicide. I had been mentioning suicide in our conversations for a few weeks, to be fair. Caught in the scene, I was brought to New York Presbyterian Psychiatric Emergency Room in an ambulance. “How much is this going to cost? Because I can’t afford

Thank you Max, for sitting down with me for this interview, I know it’s a hard subject but if you don’t mind can you tell me a little background from the suicide of Katrina? Yes detective, but it dates a long time back, back to this little barn. Katrina and her brother would always go out to the barn and play. Katrina’s father would always tell her to not go out to the barn and play and he would tell her brother the same thing. They never listened though. They were having so much fun until one day. I was a neighbor to Katrina for a while, she asked me to come play the day an accident occurred in the barn. I was just in the corner watching her climb this unsturdy ladder, it would crack going all the way up. She got almost to the very top

It's been over two weeks and Evan is still not sure what he's gotten himself into and the only one to blame is himself and his wired therapy letters. So now where is he? Oh yeah, pretending to be Connor Murphy's best friend because his parents thought he wrote a suicide note to Evan. And of course, he just went with it. Told the Murphy's all about his great friendship with their son who was surely going to kill him once he woke up. Evan would love it if the ground could just open up and swallow him whole. His phone ringing interrupts his daydream about no longer existing. Evan pulls his phone out of his pocket and blanches when he sees it's Mrs. Murphy.

I am a second year student in the psychology masters program at Catholic University of America and I have a strong interest in suicide prevention and sexual assault crisis intervention.

The sun glares down upon me from the sky. Sweat drips from my brow as I search for any signs of a cloud that will provide some respite from the 100 degree heat. I cling to the chain-link fence that surrounds the tennis court for support, my lungs desperately pleading for air. The soles of my feet burning underneath me, I feel ready to collapse. We – I and seven other students – had just finished our second suicide after a series of other training drills, and I was ready to go home for a cold shower and some much needed rest. Our coach, who we call Coach G, then yells, “Again!” We line up at the white doubles line. “Suicides,” I thought, “a more appropriately named activity I have never heard in my life,” as I just about felt ready to die. The whistle shrieks, my deadened ears barely able to hear the strident sound. We set off, touching each consecutive line and returning to our starting position. Doubles line, singles line, center, singles line, doubles line – I finish the first court. We then continue on to the second, repeating the routine with the added challenge of having to return to the doubles line of the first court each time. This continues on to the third court, then the fourth. Finally, after reaching the end of the

It was 2nd quarter in 6th grade. I was sitting on my saucer chair relaxing, and enjoying the silence in my bedroom. I sit there thinking in my sweats cuddles up in a large fuzzy purple blanket. Then suddenly I was awakened after spacing out from my phone. The text was from Emma, I was a little sceptical because we hadn’t talked in a couple of days. I hesitantly opened it and slowly and carefully read it. The text said, “I hate myself, I hate how I look, I hate how I feel, and I hate how people look at me”. I felt absolutely terrible, and was in a bind not knowing what to say back. All I knew was Emma needed to know how important she was to this world and that she meant so much to her friends and family.

Last February, I wanted to commit suicide. Years of masking my depression had caught up to me, trapping me in an endless pit. Luckily, in a moment of panic, I decided to tell someone before ending my life.

The Oxford Dictionary states that excellence is the quality of being outstanding or extremely good. This noun embodies who I am. Not only that but I also work to achieve excellence as often as possible. In my lifetime, I have learned so many things and have been through a lot. All of this help me to be excellent.

So earlier I was crying and experiencing such an acute level of mental anguish that I was contemplating suicide might be the only option, the only way out. And now currently I’m feeling a bit rapturous laughing along with the Peasants.