Editor’s Note: This article discusses suicide and mental health challenges. The subject matter may be difficult for some readers.
Three years ago, I tried with all my might to end my life. By all rational assessments, I should be dead. Yet I am grateful to be alive. I have been to the deepest, darkest, most forbidden place no human being should venture. I cannot find the words to adequately explain the awfulness that can engulf someone with persistent depression and later suicidal ideation. I am grateful for the chance to share my story and hope it helps me connect with even one reader who is suffering in silence, as I did for most of my life. Mental health treatment works. Before I survived my suicide attempt, I was convinced it was for weak people. On the outside, I projected bravado and confidence. I learned early in my legal career that clients expected, and law firm managers demanded, the image of an invincible warrior. I became a good actor. Many others are like me. No matter how tough we think we are, we remain vulnerable to life’s frailties, just as our clients and everyone else on this planet. If you think otherwise, you are only deceiving yourself. I learned the hard way. I urge you to learn from my mistakes. Some of what you will read from this point forward may seem unbelievable. What I share is true. I write only to help, with no other agenda. I do not charge for any of my mental health advocacy. I advocate for others like me because I am grateful to be alive and because I know people with mental illness can be helped. After successfully test-firing a brand-new loaded .357 Magnum, I placed it against the side of my head and pulled the trigger. I have no logical explanation for why that weapon did not fire when the hammer struck the bullet. Likewise, I have no intellectually acceptable explanation for why, a few hours later, when I tried to kill myself again, I experienced an all-encompassing sense of calm and peace that washed over my body and extinguished the compulsion to kill myself. At the same time, my zeal to end my life abated. I received a comforting message inside my head that said, “Bruce, you are not going to kill yourself. You are going to be okay, and you are going to be equipped to handle the aftermath of your suicide attempt. You are going to be fine.” Stunned, I thought, “What is this?” I am still trying to understand all that happened that night.
After my suicide attempt, I was arrested and handcuffed in front of my family and neighbors. I was involuntarily committed to a state psychiatric hospital, where I stayed for four days. After my release, I met with my clients in a case in which I had committed malpractice and which prompted my attempted suicide. I apologized and informed them of the statute of limitations for suing me. I then reported my conduct to the Kentucky Bar Association and was subsequently fired by my law firm. I was 73 years old, unemployed, and facing a mountain of debt. I tried to escape my depression by gambling. I am a gambling addict, though I have not gambled in three years. Within nine months of my suicide attempt, I progressively improved thanks to mental health treatment. During this time and since then, I have been on a mission to understand how I got into such a miserable, suicidal condition and why I did not seek help. I have read many books about mental illness and its treatment. I have watched hours upon hours of YouTube video presentations about every form of mental illness and the therapies to treat them. I also confess, as a former agnostic, that I have read numerous books written by late Christian pastor, Dr. Tim Keller and listened to many of his sermons. I have learned a lot in the last three years, and I am still learning. In August 2023, I chose to publicly share most of my story in my local newspaper, the Lexington Herald-Leader. I also discussed my lifelong battle with mental illness and suicidal thoughts in the September edition of the Kentucky Bench and Bar, and in the December 2023 edition of the American Bar Association Journal. I decided to share the most intimate, tortured secrets of my life because, in the nine months following my suicide attempt, I learned of the significant adverse impact the stigma attached to mental illness has on people like me. This stigma deters many from seeking help. As for me, I always thought I was born with a “Bruce Simpson personal inadequacy problem” that I had to cope with as best I could. I learned to mask my depression. I still functioned at a high level, but inwardly I knew I was a walking improvised explosive device, ready to kill myself if I ever perceived a legitimate threat to the reputation others told me I had as a “good lawyer.” My identity, self-worth, and reason for living became largely dependent on others’ validation. I had unknowingly set myself up for a catastrophe. I know the depths of despair. I also know how difficult it can be to ask for help and that sometimes you feel paralyzed and unable to do anything to help yourself. It is the nature of the illness. I get it, but I know you can be helped, and you are not alone. Some of us need more help than others, just as people with a heart condition, diabetes, or myriad of other physical illnesses do. Finally, I want you to know how devastating suicide can be to those you love. I was fully convinced at the time I attempted suicide that it was best for everybody if I were dead. There was no doubt in my tortured, twisted mind about it, but I have lived to witness how wrong I was. My wife and daughters are still afraid I might try it again. I am deeply concerned that I may have made suicide more acceptable if one day they become overwrought. Had I had the capacity to appreciate the detrimental effects that even attempted suicide would have on my family, I would never have done it. If you find yourself in crisis, talk to a trusted friend, go to the emergency room at a nearby hospital, or call 988. Help is available 24 hours a day. The people who take these calls are trained to handle them. If you are struggling mentally, do your due diligence and find a competent clinical psychologist, psychiatrist, or therapist trained to address your personal history. This is important, as not every mental health professional is trained to address every mental illness. The most important lesson I learned is that people in a mental health crisis must at least talk to someone. Bruce Simpson is an attorney and trained adult peer support specialist. He has spoken with lawyers and others in crisis from across the United States and 12 foreign countries. He can be reached at bruce@bsimpsonlaw.com.