getting at the problem at the problem level by saying it out loud.

my first thoughts, as ever, are to push against the very nature of our explanation and understanding of the issue of suicide, previously, called ffuicide, or something very similar by David Hume around 1776ish, although my memory is a bit shasky – overstimulation of the Amygdala and poor memory implantation and recall due to rumination.

but to begin please allow me share my experience in what for me is a No Go – Go Journey

enter this place
find your space
please, take your seat,

defeated man (women)
no game,
broken brain,
never to be the same,
decide, Decision, derisio,
do something to make a difference,
last night of days to end all days,
so what’s new?

Openness closed,
no blink of an eye,
a heart that froze,
zigzag fire blast,
embers all the same,
raised flames,
take the heat,
do not speak,
tongue tied,
tongue tight,
that’s about right.

Scorched earth scorching,
do tell
or go to hell,
stand tall,
stand straight,
or
suck it fucking up and don’t stand at all.

Last things first,
First things last.

Relinquished
Diminished
Laughed At
Nothing New
For me For You.

Break Away
Far Away
But where
Where too

Exhaustedness
Innumerable Numbness
Life Thwarted
Designated Journey Ahead
Enclosedness Beckons
Non-arrival Arrivals this way

Leave this place,
Make a space
Vacate this seat

No Go – Go Journey
This Way

For me understanding the sense of release that an act of killing yourself is, is a journey that one decides for one’s self is a pretty good starting point.

Much of the management of suicide is a very poorly understood relationship between an imprecise science, beit psychology or psychiatry, empirical study and learnt or experiential wisdom. And, interestingly how someone is actually helped is a crucial determinant of the outcome. Should, as is very often the case, the response be a risk mitigation copying strategy for the helper then, according to Appleby, the risk of suicide and homicide increases.

So what to do?

So, please bear with me as I tell another story through a poem (it’s said to be a poem by other poet’s, for me it’s a way of telling a complicated story)

crawl across your mind scape cliff,
dropped off on your shore,
action is unclear,
why am I even here.

scheduled reinforcement,
sophisticated exchanges of different games,
all shame, take the blame and mention no names,
consciousness is lost but who is, is the boss?
self sublates,
decentres,
excluded in holistic aspirations,
multilevelism as explanation,
deconstructively constructive.

But who gains?

Algorithimic answers making chains of claims,
transitory deception to avoid the blame,
oh, it’s a shame
beyond false consciousness,
in a gold guided wrapping of technology as ideology,

It is, nonetheless, a schedule of reinforcement of suicide,

because suicide is after all

Right Fucking Pain.

What I am saying here is that, if one has done this journey, one knows that it has no destination. It is all journey. It is about sailing the voids.

Being the sailor and having access to someone who knows the weather and the shipping forecast is crucial.

Yet here’s a chronic shortage of trauma and compassion informed practitioners, even amongst, the specialists.

I know that Shirley has been very active in making a shout out for people to join in this forum. It would be great to hear about trauma course completion and pathways to becoming an accredited trauma handler (I struggle to find a word that’s not loaded with professionally invested interests) But ‘ship-a-hoy’ there’s plenty of sailors about.

There’s always power in strange places and that’s an uncharted gift of cptsd. If we own our misery we can learn more about ourselves, gaining in selflove and loving-kindness with massive insights into sailing troubled and troubling water.