Suicides and Sudden Deaths – Perspectives From My Experience as a Psychic

Image from www.radiomonash.net

Image from www.radiomonash.net

“Did you really want to die?”
“No one commits suicide because they want to die.”
“Then why do they do it?”
“Because they want to stop the pain.”
~ Tiffanie DeBartolo

 

The morning I am blogging about suicide comes directly after the night where I have been awake for most of it, messaging and then skyping with a suicidal client.

It comes directly after the news that another person in one of my Lyme support groups has taken their own life.

It comes two days after a very ill friend died, in a way that could technically be viewed as assisted suicide. She had been in great pain, and was in palliative care. The morphine given to her in increased doses relieved her pain but depressed her respiration and slowed her heart rate, speeding her death. All of us were relieved that there was no pain or suffering in her final hours.

Suicide, and thoughts of suicide, are common in our society. I’m grateful that we are starting to have more of an open dialogue around this. As a psychic I have been witness to perspectives on suicide that most people don’t have. I’d like to share these perspectives with you, in the hope that you will begin to see suicide differently.

 

Suicide is defined as the voluntary and intentional taking of one’s own life. I have seen four circumstances that I define as suicide (*note that this classification is my own):

  1. Being in a situation where help is (or is perceived to be) unavailable and the escalating pain, illness (mental or physical) and lack of control make ending a life seem to be the only viable option. This situation, arising out of desperation, exhaustion, disconnection or other intense negative emotional states is the most common form of suicide that I have encountered. It is also the one most regretted by those who take action to end their lives.
  2. The deliberate sacrificing of one’s life for a greater purpose or higher ideal. The primary motivation behind this type of rare act is love, and it is usually a spur-of-moment choice. I do not include martyrdoms for ideological causes (such as suicide bombings) in this category. Instead think of the parent who risks and loses their life to save their child. The spouse whose last act in a car accident is to position the car so that their partner is spared the worst of the impact.
  3. The assisted and hastened death of someone who is already dying and whose life has run its course.
  4. The deliberate ending of a life where that life’s parameters are non-negotiable, non-changeable and no longer acceptable to the person living that life. That person is not in the same situation as the first circumstance I discussed. The decisions made here come from a place of clarity and peace, rather than from heightened emotional distress or disturbed thinking.

Suicide is, in so many ways, a complex issue.

There is much to say about this topic, and it has raised so many questions from you, my dear readers, that I am going to break this subject down into more posts over the coming Wednesdays. I’ll examine each type of suicide, and I’ll also look at accidental and sudden deaths, and how these impact the soul, as well as those left behind.

Be aware that in the overwhelming majority of suicides there is a realisation of deep regret at their actions in the moments before and after death –  when they understand that it was truly not what they wanted to do, that they have made a terrible mistake but that it is now too late to change this sudden ending of their precious life.

And of course the fallout for loved ones left behind after suicide is often immense, life-altering and devastating.

No matter what the circumstance of the suicide I can render the truth of it down to this. After death, ultimately, a soul returns to love.

Wherever you are this week, and whatever head space you are in, know that you matter to me, and that you are in my thoughts, meditations and prayers.

Be kind to yourself. Reach out to others. Live from compassion. Life is messy and sometimes hard, but we’re all in it together.

All my love, Nicole xx

 

Need Help To Cope?

The following links provide support for those who are suicidal or bereaved by suicide:

Australia List of links and contact numbers here

 

International Support 

Wikipedia has a great list of international support services here

Suicide.org also lists support services for all corners of the globe here

 

Requiem For A Lost Poet – #Lyme

Photo of Heather Askeland

Photo of Heather Askeland

“I don’t need a cloak to become invisible.”
~J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

 

I found out earlier this week that a fellow Lyme sufferer in the USA took her own life. I never met Heather, but I know her journey. All late-stage Lymies know, and understand, because so easily, that could have been us. The news of Heather’s death made me sad. So very sad. And angry. But anger won’t bring her back.

The news of Heather’s death made me feel helpless too. I never knew of her struggle until it was too late. This wretched disease that has wreaked havoc and destruction in the lives of so many, including mine, became too much for this young woman to cope with on her own. People need to know. It isn’t right.

Sadly, Lyme disease, like most ‘invisible’ illnesses has a very high suicide rate. Sufferers get worn down by their illness, by the cost of treatment, by the contempt of friends, family and many in the medical fraternity who don’t believe that they are sick. When you are desperately ill, and you can’t work, and you have no money and no safety net of family or friends (or you wore out your welcome, or spent your family’s last dollar) and you can no longer take care of the most basic survival tasks in your life, you run out options pretty fast.

But that’s not why I’m writing this post.

I’m writing to honour Heather Askeland as a poet, and an artist. I wanted to share her work with you. I wanted her to be remembered with the fullness of who she was.

This is a poem she wrote about selling her beloved violin to help pay for treatment:

the sold violin by Heather Askeland

the A string keens, a notch flat, lost
songbird carrying morning.

the sun is a steak knife slicing dust.
you crouch, release the zipper’s

low whine. case like a toothless mouth.
there is no music here.

no wooden neck to cradle
like a newborn’s head,

no thin steel creasing prayer
into fingertips. no satisfied tendons,

no sweat
other than the nightly fever.

you used to play Tchaikovsky.
your fingers were silverfish,

the audience thunderclap your
favorite drug. now bright lights spin

you like a top. snap you in two,
a severed dandelion.

you are lucky. illness is expensive.
you trade horsehair and childhood

recitals for antibiotics.
how many centimeters of soundpost

for homeopathic injections? for the
metronome of an IV drip?

how much varnish for hair loss?
for the skipping stone

pulse, for each battle between gut
and bread? which Bach sonata

for the skeleton memory?
your neurons are sunken ships,

the dead fish sing you lullabies, let meat
rot in cupboards and crackers grow freezer crystals.

for a moment you panic. wonder why
the case is empty. check the windows. the cats

are two otters in their sun pools.
you remember: the violin is gone.

the violin is everywhere.
it is white cells, methylation pathways

morning yoga sessions. medication three times
a day and herbs that taste like molding twigs.

the 1812 Overture blasts its cannons
with each push of blood from chest to toes.

no one can hear it but you.
your arms are warm.

the music never left, is waiting for you
to turn it up.

Image from wall alpha coders

Image from wall alpha coders

And this is the final video Heather made, her one last shot at trying to find help. As you already know, it never came.

 

Spare a thought for Heather today. Say a prayer, send a blessing, wish her peace. Honour her short life for the artist she was – not as her disease, not as a lyme warrior – honour her for her poetry and her caring heart.

Heather Askeland

Heather Askeland