About 2 weeks ago, I made the decision to end my own life.

I have been living with severe depression, with varying degrees of success, for 27 years. As is common in those with depression, I didn’t recognize the signs at first, and men present depression differently from women. Oddly enough, men tend to present as angry, when really they are depressed.

Of course, this is all old hat for me, and had nothing to do with recent events. Since its all over the net anyway, I might as well tell you all what happened so it may serve to help others understand they are not alone.

In addition to the usual MRM related shit and abuse, I’ve been carrying around some baggage in real life. And it’s sorta relevant, so I’ll bring it up.

I’ve been through abusive relationships, lost my children to poverty, lost a house and new car, been cheated on, used, and belittled. Like nearly everyone else. I’ve also been chronically underemployed, again like most people.

Pretty regular stuff really. But add in the depression and you have serious problems. And while in hospital, nearly everyone else in there was also there for depression. So again, I’m not exactly a special case. And in a perfectly regular way, I planned my own execution.

After I finished work, I was going to take the hose (exhaust hose, about 4 inches around) that I had bought, drive out to a secluded spot (not hard to find in SK) and gas myself. I sent out an email to those who would need to know what happened, thinking it was by then too late to stop me. Paul proved me wrong on that score, by the way. Oddly enough, it really pissed me off that I couldn’t finish my work properly while I sat in the back of the cop car.

I’ve recently become rather disgusted with, and mistrustful of, police….but in this case, they made the right call. They ‘arrested’ me and took me to hospital, where I would spend the next week. And it was a good call, and I thank Paul for doing that. That might be because I have a supportive employer. It’s probably because I’m still alive to say it.

In addition, the doctors were well aware of the predominance of male depression, as well as the stats on male suicide. Encouragingly, at least around these parts, they are very much interested in promoting the issues surrounding men and depression. A few nurses had even heard of the MRM, and one of them slipped and called me ‘Factory’ once. So I took heart in that a little, and I hope you do too.

I’ve regained my balance, by the way, so I think you may find me a little less angry these days. Still disjointed, but calmer. I have read many of the comments you have left, by the way, and as I said to Paul I’m flabbergasted, since I didn’t really think anyone would care.

Apparently, depression fucks with a guys perspective.

Anyway, I hope this is enough for now. There may be something else coming out of this experience, and if so I’ll let you all know. In the meantime, thanks again for your concern and support.