#NerdsUnite: The Aftermath of a Suicide Confession to My Friends and My Mother

<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Eric. He is a MAASSTTEERRR social dynamics expert that will be talking about his experiences in the field from both an expert, and experience perspective. He's not just saying "this is how to get the girl" he's here to share his actual life stories and lessons learned from them. I only have one more thing left to say ... HIT IT ERIC !!</editorsnote>

#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @Redolpho

Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.

Withering my intuition leaving all these opportunities behind.

Feed my will to feel this moment urging me to cross the line.

Reaching out to embrace the random.

Reaching out to embrace whatever may come.

I embrace my desire to

feel the rhythm, to feel connected

enough to step aside and weep like a widow

to feel inspired, to fathom the power,

to witness the beauty, to bathe in the fountain,

to swing on the spiral

of our divinity and still be a human.

                    - Lateralus, Tool

First off, to every single person that contacted me in one way or another, thank you. Thank you soooooooooooo much. As someone who deals with suicidal depression knows, the weight of the imposition can be so sly and incrementally obfuscating that your insignificance becomes a believable facade. It's crazy how believable this lie becomes and how your own world seems to close in on you. Each and every one of you helped break that facade down and I owe you a debt of gratitude. I know that I'm far from alone, I know that I am loved.

Nobody knew, as I've come to understand, even my closest friends had no idea that this was something I dealt with. But still, I have lived with a hunger for death all too often, a hunger to quit. When I wrote my last blog I cried. Still, I thought very little of it. Whimsically I posted it to my own Facebook, and then I took a nap. But when I awoke I did so to an unexpected mirror. The clarity in which I have seen myself was only viewable through you. What I thought I am is a fallacy.

"You are a good looking, socially inclined, musically gifted, genuinely nice dude, who would think that you had anything to be depressed about?"

This is what a good friend of mine, who deals with a similar affliction, said about me in a recent conversation. My self-image is obviously significantly distorted. I am cerebral to a fault. I live within my own head and there is a hyper-focused self-deprecating train of thought that cascades into suicidal planning. Through the exploratory adventure I have delved into I am contemplating the potential of refocusing this massive energetic waste into growth. I am pessimistic about the idea of being cured but; pragmatically, I think this may be something that I successfully learn to combat or cope with for my entire life. However, I am optimistic about the possibility of dying with a smile. I think about death often, it goes hand-in-hand with being suicidally depressed. How will I be remembered? As an atheist, I often contemplate the ramifications of my life. I wonder, "Did I make a difference?" "Did I do some good with the life that I've had?"

I WILL RIDE A TANDEM BIKE FOR 10,000 MILES ACROSS SOUTH EAST ASIA. 

It's hard to type, it's hard to say, because it is so ambitious but I believe I have the potential for something great. But, when that path is unpathed and we explore vulnerability at its most organic source then it's often easier to lie in comfort than pursue the greatness that lies within. For me, I don't have the lying option. If I lie dormant than something else will grow and it will lead me to the top of a tall building and I'll fly from it to a selfish freedom.

Since publicly committing to the Tandem10 I have thought about how I could do social good in combination with my more selfish desires for this adventure. I talked in my last piece about my beliefs in the power of social media to connect us. As an entrepreneur, I have been sickened by what I've seen in the activities of "non-profits". There is a reality seldom seen in the organizations that take donations to pay six figure salaries to the kin of the rich, in order to feed narcissism, and fund elaborate marketing campaigns, which compel us to act in a way that we falsely believe is making a difference. Social media has the power to democratize our voice. I want to make a tangible difference, not just to those that benefit but to those that invest as well. Psychologically, making a direct social difference can impact the invester just as much as the receiver. In my short life I have felt most enamored by random acts of kindness. Sometimes it can be something as small as a taco or as big as a roof over your head so that you are not homeless quite yet. Those who have couchsurfed know what this social economy can mean and I'm sure many others know as well.

Instead of fighting for a grand cause, not that a grand cause is bad, I would like to instead use my Tandem10 exploration to discover random acts of kindness. As I travel through South East Asia I would like to find a mother that needs new shoes, a child that needs a book, or a traveler that needs a good meal. I can't predict what these needs may be but I would love nothing more than to connect you with the people that will benefit from your contribution. There will be no pre-produced packets or brochures, just a unique identifier so that you know EXACTLY where you invested in a random act of kindness along my journey. I am still working out the details of how exactly I'll accomplish this but the goals are simple: someone makes a contribution, half of the contribution funds the Tandem10, the other half funds random acts of kindness, tracking is done in the order in which contributions are made, as I travel and find places for randoms acts of kindness I'll connect the contributors with the recipients through social media (email, Facebook, etc.). Your financial and intellectual contributions are welcomed.

In regards to my self-exploration I have realized A LOT. Like I said, I posted my suicide confession whimsically to my Facebook. Had I thought about what it would be like to write such a vivid depiction of my deepest secrets to people who know me so well, I may not have been so candid. I had intended on sending it out to a somewhat anonymous crowd of blog readers. I hadn't hugged them before, I hadn't spoken with them before, I hadn't shared laughs and adventures with them. Within that crowd weren't some of the people that know me best. Within that crowd wasn't my mother.

I was writing my third version of my follow up piece to my suicide confession, this is now my eighth, and I saw the glow of my phone turn off. I grabbed my phone to see who had called and it was my Mom. I took a deep breath and slid the missed call notification on my iPhone and returned her call. With her hello I knew that she had read the piece, I knew she was shattered and I prepared myself for the conversation ahead. She told me that she felt as if she had failed as a mother, she couldn't believe that she had no idea at all and she was devastated that my suicidal attempts had started at such a young age. Nothing is as shattering as breaking your mothers heart but if I was going to be honest with the world than I needed to be honest with my mother as well. During our conversation I explained that my writing was meant to be something positive. She is still grappling with this but I hope that she will come to terms with the past. Yes, your first son held a knife to his throat before he was ten. Yes, your first son still wants to kill himself sometimes. BUT, he hasn't killed himself yet, he wants to live, and he has embarked on a deep journey into himself so that he will hopefully not just save his life but the lives of other sons and daughters as well. This is a story about life and not one of death. I love you Mom and although you are not perfect, and you have growing to do yourself, I know you love me too. I know you're worried about me, as I expect any mother would be, but know that I am not done living yet.

When I published my last piece I knew there would be an immediate sense of relief but that the relief would soon wain. I knew that there were deeper issues that had to be dealt with. The most daunting realization was that all the love I ever needed was right there for me to take but that I was unwilling to accept it. It was the moment when I realized how much I distrust the world and I know EXACTLY where it comes from. I grew up with an emotionally abusive father who, time and time again, pushed my head further below the surface when I was drowning. I was bullied through out elementary school and felt like an outcast, ugly, dumb, and undeserving of happiness. (Ironically, I just got sent an elementry school reunion invite) The first time I thought I had a real group of friends in high school, every single one of them turned their back on me. What made it worse is that they made it look easy. When you have such a breadth of pivotal life experiences convincing you that betrayal is something to be expected, how do you learn to trust again?

As best as I understand it now, trust has to be relearned through a series of experiences that reinforce a comfort in trust itself. I have to reteach myself to trust others and to trust myself. Part of my journey is to say yes to the now. To the best of my abilities I am trying to let what moves me, move me. Keeping my one goal in mind, to live happily. The hardest part about writing this piece has not just been my reflective evaluation but also figuring out what I am going to DO about it. What are my next steps? In thinking about them I am attempting to use discomfort as a barometer for change and to take pragmatic steps towards recovery.

First step: Tell the world that sometimes I want to kill myself and that I've unsuccessfully tried it. But also that I'm committed to growth.

First step -> DONE

Second step: Deal with the immediate needs of the relationship with my Dad.

My Dad is at the root of a lot of my anger and distrust. If you know me personally you'll know that angry isn't a word that is often used to describe me, but my Dad fucking pisses me off. I have debated on whether or not to go on a tirade and I have chosen not to. I already wrote my fuck you letter and 2013 is about growth. I can't grow if I continue living in the past. But in order to move forward I need to do something I have been puting off for a long time. He has been calling me for the last two years and I haven't answered or called back. Here is my response...

          Dad: When you disowned me I listened and the fact that you did it infront of the whole family was incredibly embarrassing. You have never said sorry for it and now it's too late because I won't believe you when you do. It's been two fucking years and you never said sorry. That. is. an. ass. hole. move.. Call after call but never a sorry. Just one emotionless monotone messge after the other. You're not getting a phone call back. Please stop calling me and asking me how I am. Ask your wife if you want to know. I. do. not. trust. you.. Period end of sentence. There cannot be any meaningful relationship without trust and I don't know what you could do at this point that make me trust you again.

Second step -> DONE

Third step: Post the following affirmations where I can read them everyday.

I have all the love that I'll ever need.

I am all the awesome that I'll ever need.

I will ride the Tandem10.

Third step -> DONE

Fourth step: Feel a sense of pride by achieving something.

I currently have unlimited access to a surf rental shop in Venice beach. I am going to stand up on that board. I'll keep you posted.

Fifth step: Reward myself for making a HUGE step forward and posting the piece to my friends and family.

I am going to take a random trip and couchsurf for a couple days very soon.

Sixth step: Start raising and saving money for the Tandem10.

I have bought the domain name tandem10.com, and am figuring out how to take donations. I need to talk someone who has experience with non-profits to discuss how I should set this up.

Seventh step: Reach out to someone when I am feeling most alone and vulnerable.

I have realized that talking about depression is one of the best ways to deal with it but, this intimately vulnerable area is one where I lack trust the most. One of the people that reached out to me is very dear to my heart. Although they asked to remain very anonymous, suffice-it-to-say I care for them very dearly, and they have also experienced things very similar to me. I am going to call or text you the next time I feel the pull. I love you, know that. If you died I would be very very sad. Don't write me a letter, call me. I know what it feels like to feel alone but know that you are not alone. I am here with you and you are here with me. I will not fail you and I expect the same of you. I love you. I love you. I love you so very much.

Eighth step: Write my next piece and trust the the world one more time. Tell the world and those closest to me about something they also do not know. Be brave, be bold, be vulnerable. Find change. Grow!

My sincerest to all that have read this.

L'chaim (to life)

#thatisall

If you’d like to share your stories please feel free to tweet me at @redolpho or email me at eric dot rudolph dot carrillo at gmail dot com