I am no stranger to people who have tried and failed, to those that have succeeded in killing themselves. Some people who talk about it and don't really succeed are seeking attention and help, if you can, get them to someone who can help them. The scary part is those that have made peace with killing themselves and there are maybe a few warning signs or none at all. We as caring human beings need to be alert to such things and the warning signs.
When I was growing up and somewhere around 8 or 9 years old, which was late 60's, I had been in speech therapy maybe a year, not precisely sure but no matter. Well my speech therapist spent like a week or more over the Christmas holiday with us. This was caring and stratigic move on my parents part, as this woman had a history of trying to commit suicide using pills and being discovered in time to save her, kinda clever on her part. Doing what my parents did was to insure she would not pull any of that crap, and she was told in no uncertain terms don't pull any of that stuff around my boys. Not completely sure of the logic that my parents used, but maybe it was along the line that they didn't want to switch therapists and have to try and explain to me that she killed herself. In the long run, I still think my parents made the right decision. Some time later I did switch therapists who was much better, and I think she finally did get help.
When I got into the organized community of BDSM, meaning meeting people face to face, and having many friends, there was one weekend just as the weather was turning nice around early spring. I was involved with others of like mind and we were dealing with multiple people wanting to kill themselves. Two of them I was directly involved with and thankfully I was not alone in helping these people because talking to these people to try and figure out what is going in there head can shake you to the core. We talked one out of doing it and securing a promise, the short end of it for that one. The other one actually tried and stopped at the last second, he was doing like around 90 MPH headed for a bridge abutment in a car. Turned out he ran out of his meds, Paxil, and was able to find a pharmacy open late at nite to get the meds. We worked with the local cops, and helped that one of the people I was working with was a MPD officer, we convinced the cops to let us take him out of the jurisdiction to someone that would watch over and take care of him for a few days. A 3rd one, I was not involved with, he succeeded, was on life support until the family got there and pulled the plug as he was too far gone. Another case which was another weekend, I was at some BDSM friends who are computer nerds, they were chatting with someone online at a university in SW Virginia, working with one of the IT network people, they were able to ID which computer on campus the person was using, and able to tell the campus cops what was going on and where to find the person so they could get him help. By Sunday night I was drained, still trying to wrap my head around everything that weekend. I even considered walking away from BDSM because if there are so many people like that, I didn't need that in my life. Well here I am 27-8 years later as my profile will show I made it.
7-8 years later, an ex-coworker that I kept in contact with as I knew where he worked after the company we worked for was no longer. I got a call that he died and he killed himself which hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew he had trigeminal neuralgia with limited success in treatment. I knew this disorder as my mother suffered from it too and was classed as a suicide disease. After the funeral and when most people has left the townhouse where they held a reception I got the full story. I found out there were other things going on in his life and he just couldn't handle it anymore. I had used the bathroom that he blew his brains out in with a .45 autoloader pistol and a used soda bottle taped to the barrel as a one time use suppressor in the early morning hours. The walls, etc. were cover in blood and brain matter, the bullet either went through the drywall or door, as it was found on the steps going downstairs from the bathroom. Must say they did a good clean up job and paint job. His sister said when she dies and goes to heaven or wherever, she was going to kick him in the ass for doing what he did, not that I could blame her either.
Now on the flip side of all this, I lost my mother to Angiosarcome, my father to Parkinson's(Bradykinesia) over a long period of time, and god mother to ovarian cancer. I have seen the suffering of patients in a nursing wing in a retirement home where it is a way station to heaven. My wife has worked in mental health field almost 2 decades and as a society, government, and lack of funding of those in need of mental health treatment just sucks big time. Politicians just pander to the people saying they will do something about it. Yes, there are laws, mandates, directives, but there is no funding of this and so nothing changes. Those that do get help are the fortunate ones, as many don't. I remember a case about a decade ago in Fairfax County, VA, a young man went into a police station for that district and shot many people. When they went into the history of the person, he was in and out of mental health places like a revolving door getting no help. Look at the case of Virginia Tech down in Blacksburg, VA, warning signs were there, no one did anything. Sticking our heads in the sand and going lalalalala isn't a good solution. If this world is to be a better place, we all have to participate in making it a better place.