Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Suicide in the Village


Lately I’ve been so bogged down from all the losses we’d had in our community. Many of the losses have been from suicide. These ones hurt the most because I feel like the people who commit suicide hid their hurt so well that we never got the chance to save them. One of my good friends passed away from suicide last year. He had a good group of friends, was active on the ball court, and did a lot of hunting and fishing. I never would have guessed in a million years that he suffered from depression. I knew he was going through a breakup, but he seemed like he was ok.

Life is so different not having him to talk to about all sorts of things ranging from moose hunting to fantasy football to everyday life struggles. I wish I would have known. I should have made it clear that I was always there to listen and talk. One year ago yesterday, he caught his very last moose. He, like me, spent just about everyday on the river looking for a bull to provide for his family. My buddy kept me in the loop on who caught where and if he saw anything while he was out.

Suicide has hurt just about everyone in our community. I can count at least five people who have died of suicide in Unalakleet in the last 2 years. These people were young. Some were parents of young children. The connection between alcohol and suicide in Alaska hits hard.

I’m not going to lie. I have been there before. I was 20-years-old and going through my first major breakup. I was so heartbroken. I thought I was going to marry my high school sweetheart. One night, I grabbed a handful of ibuprofen and swallowed them. Then I grabbed one more handful and swallowed them. I washed them down with water as I cried. I then called my best friend Megan to tell her what I had done. She rushed over to my dorm room. I was already passed out by the time she got there. Luckily my dorm room was on first floor and my bedroom window was open. Megan climbed into my room and saw me passed out of the floor and she called the cops. The ambulance picked me up and brought me to ANMC. By the time I woke, I was caked in charcoal.

My mom was at the hospital when I woke up. She flew in from Seattle. When I came to, I realized that I wanted to live. Many other friends and family came to visit me at the hospital. I realized how many people loved and cared for me. After being released from the hospital, I packed up my stuff, dropped my classes, and went home for the rest of the semester. It was the spring of 2005 when this happened. Here I am now, 14 years later. I have three beautiful children, whom I would not be blessed to have if I were to die then. I am forever grateful to my best friend, Megan, who saved my life.

Sure, I deal with depression every once in awhile. I also live with major anxiety, but I have a reason and a will to live. God put me on this Earth for a reason. I am alive today to spread the news that you are here for a reason. You are loved and you mean the world to many people. If you every feel like life is not worth living, please talk to someone close to you or even come and talk to me. I would love to listen and help you through your struggle.

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