Schizo Youth

Emotionally abusive parents of schizophrenic children should be sterilized.

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Draped of silhouettes and contorted figures a dim light barely saves the room from the void. Whispers, maddened by guilt claw at strands of sanity to shred and devour. Fetus on the sheets tightly squeezes its life away, hoping the malicious tones drain out. Louder they get when resisted. Sense of self is ever more vague. Creeping away without hope of return if lost. Angry voices across the door weaken the spirit and give way to the whimpering soul that lay broken while innocent. Confused of cause and with no reason to justify loathe. A burning hatred grows for the sun and the shelter. Welcoming becomes the fade across the shadows with no faces. Simplistic the illusion of nothing. Peacefully resting on the other side of action. Long enough assures bravery for cowardice and silence be witness to the collapsed towers of rage and wrath. Forgotten or at least desired to be the whither phase to the ether. And the river of tears run streams of screams and intention.

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The Other Side

He pulls the trigger to take his life. He lives a lifetime waiting to die.

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Curious, the thought lingers in the back of his mind. “What will it feel like on the other side?” His tongue massages the steel barrel. Tastes of lead. “I’m over this end. Time for something new.”

Trigger pulled, he feels himself fall to the side at a pace so slow it might not even be happening. Fractions of seconds stretch to feel like hours. 100 million thoughts run through his mind as his eyes crawl the wall to the ceiling.

It seems that days go by watching the bulb on the ceiling dim down.

Lucy, the wife walks into view getting ever slower. Finally fully in sight, the terror trapped in her eyes is visible. Horror. Holding little Suzie, too young to know what’s going on.

Lucy paces her way up to a scream. She’s nearly no more than a silhouette. Swallowed by the dark the remaining specs of light blink away. The everlasting fade goes on for infinities. “Bye,” is his last thought as nothing is left behind.

And his eyes are fixed on a new spot of light left dancing off in the distance.

It’s a million miles away but getting bigger. Coming closer. Blinding it gets. And it overtakes the darkness leaving no trace. White floods the ambience. A perpetual ring in the ears. Muffled voices in an unfamiliar language.

Giant creatures like nothing seen before. Yet there is no recollection of seeing anything before this moment. There is no memory of this mysterious, confusing, terrifying place…

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Three Types of Suicide

In this explanation, Jack breaks down his understanding and beliefs on the topic of stigmatized suicide and the three groups of suicidal people.

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We currently live in a world where discussions on suicide are so viciously stigmatic that they’re nearly unheard of. Sometimes the discussion is enough to help an individual, but the risk of getting institutionalized is too great to attempt the dialogue at all. We’re underdeveloped in the area as a result. Most with suicidal thoughts aren’t even planning to act on them, they’re no more than thoughts. But the inability to discuss these thoughts lead to the held energy manifesting in other ways. Many times it turns into action because there is no other way to process the information.

We should be capable, as a society, nation and planet, to discuss things without another person deciding what it is you mean by it.

In this short explanation I offer perspective on the matter by walking you through the three forms in which acting on suicide can manifest.

Let us begin…

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