What Drives A Person to Suicide?

December 1st, 2001 | By Sonnie Johnson

I’ve shared a lot of stories with you but this is one of the hardest.

When I was 13, one of my best friends told me she was gay. She made it extremely clear she was not attracted to me but she wanted me to know. I didn’t care. This girl had seen me naked a thousand times and shared a bed with me a thousand nights. But more than that she and I shared ten thousand memories. I wouldn’t have cared if she told me she was going to marry a cow. I would have thought she was crazy but I would have been there to support her.

Her parents didn’t feel the same. They told her they accepted her but treated her different. It crushed her. She was supposed to spend the weekend with me but she never made it to my house. On her way, she was grabbed by a man and raped.

When I got to the hospital, all the parents had this look on their faces. It took me years to figure out what that look was. It was blame. They blamed her. Like some how her being gay had caused this man to grab her. I wish I had known what that look was then because my best friend knew.

She killed herself the day she got home from the hospital. I remember looking at her mother, feeling so sorry for her loss. I remember looking at my friend, feeling so sorry for my loss. I don’t remember ever wondering why?

O.K. this is getting to be to much. The sad part is it’s just the beginning.

When I was 15, I had a problem. Advil and Alcohol. My actual problem was an evil step mother but I compounded it with any easy escape.

Hold on before I go any further. Let me tell you about this woman. She was dark as night and constantly called me ugly for being to light. She would buy food for her and her son and I would have to wait for my father to get home to get something to eat. I had to clean the entire house before she got home and when I did, she would find the spot I forgot and I would have to hear about it for the rest of the day. She would tell all her friends how great I was, then call me every name but a child of God.

At 15, this woman was giving me migraines. It got so bad, I blacked out and had to be taken to the hospital. They prescribed me some medicine to handle the pain but when the prescription was empty, she convinced my father I was faking.

So I came up with my own cure. Advil and Alcohol. I always limited myself to only 2 pills at a time but I really abused the alcohol. The pill calmed the pain and the alcohol kept it away.

Then one day, I came home from spending the weekend with my mother. She jumped on me saying I had spent the weekend with some boy. I was delighted because I had really been with my mother. They had to see this woman was full of shit this time. I went to call my mother and she snatched the phone out my hand and told me I was on punishment.

When she left the room, I went for my first dose of my made up cure. Then she bust into my room and told me I had to go and clean the kitchen. I was like, “Hell No, I haven’t been here all weekend and I’m not cleaning up after you.” She went and told my dad who came in the room and asked me nicely if I could clean the kitchen so she would shut up.

I needed another dose because the first wasn’t working. I took my medicine and went into the kitchen. She came in after me running her damn mouth. She stood there looking at me and I could feel my blood starting to boil. I went to throw something in the trash and she bumped me. So I opened the freezer and hit her in the head.

She grabbed my arm and pushed me back. I stumbled and caught myself on the back of a chair. I picked that chair up and hit her ass as hard as I could. She feel to the floor and I grabbed a knife off the counter. I stuck the knife to her throat and told her I would kill her. My father came in and pulled me off her. All she could do was call me crazy.

I took more medicine and then called my mom. She made a 25 minute trip in 10 minutes flat. She told me to grab some clothes and come on. I did.

When we got in the truck, the pills and alcohol caught up with me. I tried to hide it but it just kept getting worse. I vision was blurry and I could barely move my arms. When we got to our destination, my mother asked why I couldn’t get out of the truck.

I had to tell her I had been taking pills with alcohol and I think I had over done it. She asked how many pills I had taken and started to count. In all, I remember taking 12 Advil and drinking 3 6oz cups of corn liquor. She was hot.

She rushed me to the hospital cussing all the way. I thought she was mad at me and it made things worse. Probably how my best friend had felt when she saw blame on her mother’s face. I tried to open the door while the truck was still moving. My mom slapped me so hard, I was stuck in place. We made the rest of the trip with one of her arms wrapped around me and the other on the steering wheel.

To this day, I won’t take any pill unless it is absolutely necessary. I mean will suffer a headache or a cold for days before I would even think about taking any medicine.

I wasn’t trying to kill myself with the pills. I was just trying to make the pain stop. In doing so, I had almost killed myself. Over an evil woman that had no real sway over the decisions in my life. All she had was hate and I allowed her to scoop so much on me, I lost my sanity. Add my mother’s words and my mistake had actually become an attempt to kill myself.

I moved in with my grandmother and never had another migraine. I graduated early and moved on. Thank God for my Mother.

I’ve had a little experience with suicide but nothing prepared me for my latest run in. Over Thanksgiving, someone very very very close to me tried to commit suicide. Everyone said it was just to get attention but I know better. Some people are so filled with pain they just want it to stop.

And this person is filled with pain. This was not a call for attention because she gets undivided attention. That’s the problem. Everyone has problems in their own life but when they find an easy target they focus on that person’s problems. Nothing is worse than having everything you have ever done thrown back into your face by every person you come in contact with. Especially when those mistakes were caused by neglect or abandonment.

If you leave an empty spot in your child, don’t be mad when they look for something to fill it. If you are constantly inflicting pain upon your child, then don’t be mad when they look for ways to relieve it. If you spend all your time worrying about your own situation, don’t get mad when your child acts out for your attention. And don’t be surprised if everyone saw this coming, except you.

I saw this person hurting. I tried to tell people to get off her back and allowed her some space to heal. I tried to tell them they can’t throw it all on her doorstep like no one else played apart in her depression. I tried to tell them that she needs someone that doesn’t judge but can still be straight forward.

I tried to be that one person but I’m 100 miles away. These things can’t be done over the phone or in an email, they have to be done face to face. And I wasn’t there. I didn’t see the pain on her face or feel the pain in her soul. I knew she was hurting but I didn’t know how much.

I found myself cussing out loud. I’m guessing the same things my mother was saying to me when I was to far gone to understand. I was cussing at myself for not doing more. I was cussing at myself for seeing all the signs and doing nothing.

But now I realize it was not my cross to bear. I wasn’t the one that had given her all that pain. I’m not the one that can take it away. All I can be is the one that helps her get through, even if it has to be done 100 miles away. Maybe I can’t help her everyday but I can help her one the day she calls out for it. Or the days she isn’t expecting to hear from me and I call just to say “I love you and am praying for you”.

I was told this weekend, I had death on my face. I know it’s funny but the person that told me this really believed it. She asked me if it was murder or suicide. It was murder but still unhealthy. From my past, I should have learned how one problem can grow with each mistake. And how in the end you can have unintended results.

People please hold on to your sanity. If your pain comes from the outside, murder isn’t the answer. If it comes from the inside, suicide isn’t the answer. Find out what’s driving you to lose your mind and start there. Pain will only last when you refuse to let it go.

I’m sorry. I have to go now. I’ll bring this back up another day but right now it’s just a little much.