Suicide Looming

TW: self harm, suicide

As I’ve said before, please know that before I get on Bummed Out Baker to write I always prioritize working with my family and psychiatrist to stabilize myself. I wouldn’t be on here if I hadn’t first confirmed my safety.


Last Wednesday I wrote an ode to a friend who recently died by suicide. While the following thoughts were further propelled by her devastating passing, I did not include these thoughts in last week’s piece because I wanted that to only be about her. She deserves that space, and so, so much more.

Something I do here on Bummed Out Baker is challenge mental health taboos. I crack open topics that are historically only talked about in hushed tones among one’s closest, if that. A lot of people don’t even like to acknowledge the same things I openly discuss, for one reason or another, but I’m trying to break a barrier to benefit us all. I want to remind readers of my purpose so my words aren’t confused with sensationalism or seeking attention.


I’m petrified suicide is going to sneak up on me and take me by surprise.

As I wrote about in Mourning the Living, in July I had the strongest ideation I’ve experienced since 2008. It led to paranoia-fueled psychosis and an emergency trip back home to New York. In August, my cousins’ cousin, who I knew in passing, died very young and unexpectedly. It completely wrecked my cousins, aunt, and uncle. The whole family was gutted. Then, in September I got news of my high school friend, K, a death by suicide.

I feel like, since this summer, suicide has been circling me, like something stalking its prey. First it was manufactured in my head. Then, death happened a few degrees away. Then, suicide happened closer to me. It’s coming closer and closer. Is a best friend next? Is a family member next? Am I next?


“I’m scared of suicide. I’m trying to understand the mentality of people who’ve passed, what exactly they were thinking that led them to their ultimate decisions. I want to know, because I want to be on guard for it,” I mused to my psychiatrist. My eyes darted across his book shelves while I tried to piece together my thoughts. “Because the only people who could identify that mentality would be, well, people who were successful in their attempt. Death is so final, you know?”

He nodded.

My psychiatrist’s brother died by suicide, the same way my friend K did. I’m empathic to a crippling degree, and was wary of triggering my own psychiatrist by working through my thoughts. He assured me that while of course sometimes it hurts, he actually thinks it helps him to muse on the subject, for us to spit out what feels like nonsensical feelings and then rearrange them into shapes of understanding.

I continued. “It’s not like we can ask the people who are gone. How do I know if I’m getting close to the edge? It’s not like there are built in alarm bells. I just can’t fathom a feeling worse than how I’ve felt, but apparently it exists. I just can’t fathom the mentality…”

“Imagine having your worst day, every day, for five years straight,” he offered.

I imagined living July 18, 2019 day after day for five years, and in that moment the great opacity of suicide began to quiver and dilute. In that moment, mercy and sadness bloomed bigger inside of me for those lost to suicide. The pain remains challenging to fathom, but the reasoning began to take shape.

I try to remain on high alert for myself and for my family, but, if we’re being honest here, sometimes that’s not enough.

In college I had an English professor who likened those who thought suicide was selfish to people who wanted someone else to walk miles every day in shoes that were tearing up their feet into a bloody, blistered mess, in order to make them feel better. The person labeling suicide as selfish is actually, perhaps, the selfish person. If someone you love is in pain that immense…

This is not provocation, but food for thought as we collectively work to understand something so horrific.

My thoughts have been fed, shuffled, and remolded as I continue to contemplate what taking your own life means. Trying to gird myself against self harm feels like choosing a random place to reinforce a protective fence when, actually, the threat is infiltrating from another area. The efforts can feel like a shot in the dark, and a feeling of hopelessness can manifest.

It’s shrouded in mystery, the whole thing.

I feel like most everyone has lost a loved one to suicide and, while this is a topic unfortunately many may relate to, it’s not one I can tie up in a bow on some idle internet post.


One of my favorite Bright Eyes songs is No Lies, Just Love, which recaps the beautiful arc of one person’s ideation, presumably that of Bright Eyes’ singer, Conor Oberst. If you prefer to listen, see video below. If you prefer to read the lyrics, which read like a prose poem, I’ve posted them below the video. If you prefer to do neither, that makes me laugh and I admire your candor. Just keep scrolling.

No Lies, Just Love

It was in the march of the winter I turned seventeen
That I bought those pills
I thought I would need
And I wrote a letter to my family
Said it’s not your fault
And you’ve been good to me
Just lately I’ve been feeling
Like I don’t belong
Like the ground’s not mine to walk upon
And I’ve heard that music

Echo through the house
Where my grandmother drank
By herself
And I sat watching a flower
As it was withering
I was embarrassed by its honesty
So I’d prefer to be remembered as a smiling face
Not this fucking wreck
That’s taken its place

So please forgive what I have done
No you can’t stay mad at the setting sun
‘Cause we all get tired, I mean eventually
There is nothing left to do but sleep

But spring came bearing sunlight
Those persuasive rays
So I gave myself a few more days
My salvation it came, quite suddenly
When Justin spoke very plainly
He said “Of course it’s your decision,

But just so you know,
If you decide to leave,
Soon I will follow
.”

I wrote this for a baby
Who has yet to be born
My brother’s first child
I hope that womb’s not too warm
‘Cause it’s cold out here
And it’ll be quite a shock
To breathe this air
To discover loss
So I’d like to make some changes
Before you arrive
So when your new eyes meet mine
They won’t see no lies
Just love.
Just love.

I will be pure
No, no, I know I will be pure
Like snow, like gold
Like snow, like gold
Like snow, like snow
Like gold, like gold, like gold

I listened to this song over and over in 2008, indeed before my brother’s first child was born, to comfort myself during one of my darkest times. Maybe it’ll bring comfort to someone else now.


I wish I had more helpful words to offer, a step-by-step way to find peace with the irreconcilable. If you share my headspace or love someone who does, rest in the knowledge that you’re / they’re not alone.

Big, giant, internet bear hugs to anyone needing one today. Hugs are always on offer in person, too.

Thanks for being there for me. I’m here for you, too.

Related on Bummed Out Baker:
Mental Health: Dealing with Suicide
Living in Lyrics
Mental Health: Mourning the Living


Writing through PTSD helps me name my feelings and heal, and I encourage you to share Bummed Out Baker with anyone you think may find it helpful or relatable. I work hard to create community and conversation around what are often painful topics.

Subscribe at the bottom of Bummed Out Baker to get my mental health musings and recipes emailed to you directly – Follow on Facebook for mental health articles and discussion – Follow on Instagram for behind-the-scenes panic attacks and my begrudging, meat-eating husband captured in the wild.

If you or someone you know needs help right now, call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.

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Mental Health: My Lowest Point in Eleven Years

On Thursday I experienced some kind of psychotic episode that concluded with the strongest suicidal ideation I’ve experienced in eleven years. I’m working with my psychiatrist and family to address what happened to me and how to move forward. I’m still reeling from the episode and am physically, emotionally, and mentally weak. When I’m able to, I have every intention to share the details of that day. But right now…

I’m walking the walk.

Mental Health: Dealing With Suicide

TRIGGER WARNINGS: self-harm / suicide

A friend hit me up this week broken-hearted that yet another one of their friends had taken their life. They asked if I might explore the complexities of dealing with suicide and raise general awareness here on Bummed Out Baker and I am going to do my best. Please know that I mean to approach the topic with the utmost sensitivity, and am writing about it not for sensationalism, but in hopes of providing solace or understanding regarding suicide.

My first thought on suicide is that it is, of course, deeply personal. When someone takes their own life, unless you’ve been in their very position, the idea of teetering on that edge between life and death is incomprehensible. However, more people than you might think have contemplated the act, several of whom are the people in your life you’d least suspect.

I’ll begin by laying my cards on the table. In 2008, before I was properly medicated under the supervision of a good psychiatrist, I hoped for death most every night. I was 19. I feel like chronic depression (or other mental illnesses) are like addiction / sobriety, in a way. If you’re an addict who doesn’t keep a close eye on the maintenance of their sobriety, a trigger that leads to a slip could sneak up on you. (In this vein, I can’t help but think of the tragic death of the wonderful Philip Seymour Hoffman. Read the moving piece from his partner here.) Mental illness is similar. Sometimes brains need a medicinal switch up, and if you’re not monitoring the effectiveness of your current (or absence of) RX, dark thoughts and ideas can begin to infiltrate your psyche and then start to seem reasonable. Something else to be aware of is that suicidal ideation can be heightened in the first several weeks of taking a new medication. A medication can also blatantly make things worse – the whole thing is a precarious trial and error to be treated with sensitivity and care. While my thoughts of death still come and go, with therapy and medications I am able to better manage with self-talk. Like I’ve said before, I don’t know when the cloud will left, but I know it eventually will.

I believe suicide to be about interiority, something happening on the inside that feels irreparable, a drought of hope that can never be replenished due to circumstance or chemical imbalance. After the initial shock, denial, and guilt, some people believe suicide to be selfish. An English teacher of mine in college opened my eyes to an alternative idea when she likened viewing suicide as selfish to wanting someone to walk around in shoes that are killing them with blood and blisters for the rest of their life, simply because it would make you (another person) feel better. When you think about it, of course that’s not something anyone would want for a loved one. But feeling that there is no way out is also something no one would want for a loved one. One of the hardest things to accept is that someone else’s suicide is not your fault. The layers of complexity continue.

When I was in high school in the early 2000s, we had about one kid a year die by suicide. Another kid would’ve gone to my high school, but he took his life while still in junior high. Kids. While this was post-Columbine, it was before the violent normalization and seemingly general acceptance of mass school shootings and before the internet loomed over every young person, a constant highlight reel produced by their peers. Social media is like a mutant toxicant that’s arrived to plague people in their formative years, a time that’s already painful enough. There is incredible pressure to be or look a certain way, and much of online presence is edited and curated to portray an idealized façade. I am 30 years old and cannot imagine that kind of weight, so I can’t fathom what it’s like to be a 15 year-old today.

While some people with suicidal tendencies are proactive towards death, others are indifferent, not trying to die while also not caring if they, in fact, do. This is different from the fleeting feeling of invincibility that typically couples with adolescence. It’s a step beyond, a matured nonchalance rooted in numbness caused by depression.

Suicide is often discussed in private, hushed tones with tearful words recounting the devastating circumstance of a self-inflicted death of a loved one. When we openly talk about suicide and self-harm, though, we make it okay for people to come out and talk about issues they may be having, which can lead to life-changing help.

While it may sometimes seem suicide may be the only route to relief, it’s simply untrue.

What can you do?

  1. Create community by normalizing the open discussion of thoughts of self-harm and suicide. Delay judgement. Open yourself to people and be receptive to what others have to say. Talk about it!
  2. Call any applicable government representatives to voice your concerns about prioritizing mental health resources and accessibility to the general public.
  3. If you have the means, donate to mental health nonprofit organizations. These orgs often provide resources, community, and solace to those in need and are unable to find elsewhere. At this point in time, these operations are a societal imperative.
  4. This is a bit pointed, but snuggling and talking to beloved pets, especially dogs, lowers BP, is calming, and helps pare down stress. There’s a growing body of research that points to mental comfort of being with your pet. (See: Harvard Health) I often tell my golden retrievers “You bring me so much comfort and joy!” while giving them belly rubs and ear scratches and I don’t know if they know what I’m saying, and I most certainly sound nuts (spoiler: because I am), but it sure does make me feel better.
  5. Always, always remember, if you or someone you know needs help right now, call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.

I’ll leave you all with this touching music video. It’s a couple years old, but remains important. Also, Logic looks like Steve Brady. Bonus!


Subscribe at the bottom of Bummed Out Baker to get my mental health musings and recipes emailed to you directly – Follow on Facebook for mental health articles and discussion – Follow on Instagram for behind-the-scenes panic attacks and my begrudging, meat-eating husband captured in the wild.