Hello Everyone. I’m Chase Warburton, brother to Hannah.
A long time ago my wonderful mother Laura asked me to share my success story on her site, because it would have helped me with coping with the loss of my sister. I’ve been struggling for years with coming onto this site, and reading all of your wonderful success stories. It’s very hard to do this. To live and focus on suicide for the time while on this site, but it is a necessary evil. One we all must face.
Well, here we go. This is my story.
June 19, 2014, I was working with a company called Vivint out in Arkansas. It was a very busy Friday and I was working in a small town called Stuttgart. I was working with my Boss Aaron Doehler and a co-worker of mine Tyler Gerber. If any of you know me, I’ve told you about Vivint and how all of it works. But for those of you I haven’t, I installed alarm systems. It took me about an hour to do a full install. Well that morning I had finished I think four installs before finally getting a break. It was so nice to be able to sit down and relax. My boss got a call from my dad, (what?) but I didn’t put much thought into it because I was starving and wanted to eat my hamburger from wendy’s. Aaron walked back in and looked a little odd, like my dad just gave him some bad news. Then my dad called me, and that’s when everything happened, that’s when I was told about Hannah, she had killed herself earlier that day. “Why!” I begged God, why my family. After getting off the phone with my dad I locked myself in my car and cried for a good hour or so. After I could finally hold my composure, I got out of my car and hugged my boss, I told him I don’t think that I’ll be able to work for the rest of the day because I was too emotionally unstable. He told me he needed me to work because the reps were selling alarms like crazy that day. I agreed to finish working that day and do an Install the next morning before going back to Utah to be with my parents.
Now if anyone has ever had a brother or sister pass away while your parents are still living, you know for a fact the WORST, I mean THE WORST part of everything is seeing your parents for the first time after the incident. When I got off the plane I saw my mother and father. They looked terrible. I’ve never seen such heart broken faces in my entire life, not to mention they had literally aged 20 years in just that night. We hugged in the airport and started balling.
The funeral was the hardest part of the whole week and a half I was back home. It’s hard saying goodbye to loved ones because you don’t want to do it… but sadly you have too…
After all of this I got into a bad life style, I was drinking, smoking, and using women for my personal gain, not caring about what other people felt or did. After awhile of living in this bad life style, I wanted to die. But I didn’t care, death isn’t a big deal to me anymore, I always said, “Hey, at least I will get to be with Hannah again.” But what about Chay, Mom, and Dad.? I would miss them too… 🙁 So when new years time came, I was living away from my parents and alone in my apartment one night. I wanted to die, more then ever I wanted to die. It was the only answer. I swallowed as many pills as I could find in my apartment, and laid down in the bathroom to die. As I started to feel myself slip away into the “Light” I realized in a split second I didn’t want to die. I forced myself to sit up and throw up all of the pills I just digested. After I threw all the pills up I forced myself to call my Mother and tell her I needed help. Where she picked me up and took me to the Psych ward at McKay Dee Hospital. It felt so stupid telling the people I was admitting myself. I felt like such a failure. In my mind I was. There was nothing else in this world that could make me feel worse.
While in the Psych ward I met some amazing people who really cared for me and loved me as a person. They taught me I could really love myself.
After getting out of the Psych ward I found an amazing girlfriend, and landed a great job. Life has been looking up.
The hard thing about suicide is it’s an addiction, like drugs or porn. You know you don’t want to do it. It’s a terrible thing, but you crave it. EVEN the thought of it, the rush it gives you, the feeling of freedom you think it gives you, is fake. It’s all fake, but you want it. Be strong and fight the addiction of Suicide.
I love you ALL,
Chase Warburton
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It makes me feel so helpless and sad to hear your story. Thank you for sharing zdear Chase. I know that God has been with you through this and will continue to lift you up. I will never get the picture of all your friends holding up up at Hannah’s funeral… it will forever be in my min.. you are so loved. Please always look back at that moment and know how much! May God always be your companion through all the days of your precious life.
Chase–when I was 16 I experienced hardship with addiction (to suicidal thoughts). I had many plans. I had a therapist, meds, and several psychiatric stays. One day while home with my mom in the other room I decided to swallow bottle after bottle of pills. There were so many, maybe 8. I threw up twice before my body decided to give up and let me die. I layed in bed, content and excited. The pain was horrible. My mom came to my door and asked me if I wanted some soup to settle my stomach.I asked her to lay with me. My mom and I aren’t close, so this was odd to her. It was difficult to control my breathing so she wouldn’t notice. I tried to sleep. A little voice told me to tell her, but the rest of me willed that soon the pain would be over and the reward would be SO worth it. She asked if I was okay, again. I was covered in sweat and I felt like my heart was visibly beating from my chest. I said “no”. And she hugged me, and we layed there in silence. The pain was only getting worse. I couldn’t breathe. I felt a panic attack coming, dying is scary. The idea of death and being dead was glorified to me, but dying, in the raw sense was the scariest experience of my life. My body was at war with the pills, and my mind wasn’t on its side. Suddenly I felt a realization, I didn’t want to die, or did I? Now wasn’t the time to be indecisive. I was losing myself. I mummbled to my mom “I need to go to the hospital” she asked “because you’re sad?” I said “I swallowed so many pills” and all hell broke lose. My mom tore me from my bed, panicking. She rushed me out to the car and drove faster than I’ve ever seen anyone. She didn’t stop once, she ran every red light, just honking. She called 911 while going 100mph down Harrison blvd. The dispatcher wasn’t any help, she only demanded that she stopped, there wasn’t time. I was screaming, scared, I couldn’t breathe. It was like breathing through a coffee straw. We got to the er and everything went so quickly. I had iv’s anywhere they could fit. I woke up in the ICU to an art line being inserted in my wrist. I was miserable. My family was miserable. I was dreading the following days, months of recovery. I was humiliated. I could sense the doctors dissapointment. I had a healthy body, and I destroyed it. He didn’t understand. I was in the behavioral health unit for months. They were going to transfer me to the university of Utah because I was showing little progress. When I finally left I was so scared to go to school, I knew everyone would ask me where I’d been. I was embarrassed. Chase, you asked me. I usually just told people I was really sick,and had to go to the hospital. I told you that, and you further questioned, “with what?” I wasn’t prepared with an answer.I said “oh, just suicidal stuff” and shrugged. Your response hurt me. It also gave me a weird sense of hope. You said “oh, I’ve been there..its just a phase, you’ll get over it” and you walked away. To read your story now, it helps me understand that you know how it is to struggle, more so than me. But at that time I felt so immature for having gone through what I did because of a “phase”. Sooner or later it passed. I decided I didn’t want to take any medication, it made me weak, sick and shaky. I had tried so many different kinds, they told me if they didn’t work, then my next resort would be shock therapy. I stopped taking my meds cold turkey. It was months before my mom realized. She was furious. I think the way that I overcame it was I told myself that if I didn’t take my pills my family would notice I was sad, so I had to force myself to be happy, to have a positive way of thinking. When she found out she forced me to an immediate doctors appointment. Surprisingly the doctor told my mom that I was fine, and they were considering tapering me off of the pills anyway, they were just scared to begin. So today I am happy. No therapy, no meds, no doctors. I never believed it was possible. Hearing stories from other people helped me then to feel more human, and they help me today to be able to forgive myself. I love you Chase, and I can’t imagine the hardship placed on you and your family. I pray for you all often. It gets better.
Chase, I would buy a book if you’d write one with more details of your story. You should consider it. I’d really love to read or hear more. I know it’s painful, but it also helps people heal and overcome what they are going through. Love you.