Surviving Suicidal Thoughts And Feelings: The Cause? Money Trauma.
For everyone reading this who has lost someone to a bout with suicide, I kindly extend my greatest compassion and sympathy towards you and your loved one. The threat of suicide is not talked about enough in society, until, unfortunately, it takes a life.
What’s even more of an issue is, we fail to look into the root causes of suicide, once again, unfortunately, until it’s too late.
From personal experience, you’d be shocked to know some of the reasons why someone would even think to take their life. But that is why I feel it’s my privilege to share my truth around the subject. And the cause, surprisingly, is money trauma!
When I was a child growing up in Southeast Louisiana, I never gave money much thought until I was about eight years old. In the beginning of life, as it is for most of us, it seemed more about finding my way and enjoying life as it unfold in front of me.
To be honest, there was never any cause to be worried or alarmed about money in any way. I give a lot of gratitude to my mom for that as she did her absolute best to support the household of me and my three brothers.
Around that time, my grandmother had moved in with us to help out while my mom had worked. I recall always vacuuming her bedroom floor on occasion for $.30 at the time. This was my first real impression when it came to money.
I was super excited for the gig I had set up. Once a week, I would clean her room and boom! I was $.30 richer. I was about enjoying life at that time so I took my new found wealth and ran to the store for some goodies. A bag of Doritos, candy, and a fruit punch, and I was the richest person that ever lived lol!
This went on for a while, and I was completely content until one day I walked into my grandma’s room and found a five gallon jar of dimes.
At first I was curious, but intuitively, even at such a young age, I knew it wasn’t for me. I felt completely dejected inside. But more importantly, to no one’s fault, I interpreted this as something that would change my life forever,
“I am not worthy of having a lot of money…”
From there, that belief pattern ran my life in so many instances when it came to money. And each time it brought greater and greater emotional pain.
What’s even more interesting is, it didn’t matter how much I had, the belief I was carrying would lead me to losing it somehow or another. I just couldn’t keep money long enough when it was in large amounts, or perceived large amounts. I would find a way to lose it or give it away.
The troubling part was that the belief has perpetuated itself for years, and every time I lost it, my self-worth would go away right with it. If I’m being honest this has unfolded hundreds of times in my 42 years of existence.
The hardest part about this aspect growing up was, you were judged for the amount of money you had or your family had in most cases. You would be treated accordingly for the abundance or lack of it.
By the time I was thirteen, I had so much money trauma that I just tried to ignore it. It literally made me want to die inside. It caused so much emotional pain that I did all I could to avoid it.
The very first suicidal thought I had was when I decided to agree to sell peanuts for my friend’s dad’s company at an NFL game. I was nervous going into it because I was a shy kid, but I really wanted to do my best. So I grabbed my peanuts and planned on doing everything I could, but
My belief of being unworthy of having or even making a lot of money showed up again…
I watched as all of my friends went back three and four times to restock their crates with peanuts to sell. I never made it through the first crate the entire three hour game. I felt saddened and humiliated more than I’ve ever felt before.
Not to mention, the worst part of it all was watching everyone get paid hundreds of dollars, and then observe as the boss took a deep sigh and handed me $25 as my friends burst out into laughter. It seems extreme, but it was so painful in that moment that I wanted to kill myself.
I’m not sure if I knew what that meant yet, but I just wanted the pain to stop. I just couldn’t figure out how to make it stop.
I never talked to my mom about this because I just didn’t want to burden her. And somewhere along the way, subconsciously, I picked up the idea that being sensitive as a guy was out of the question. So I never told her anything.
To be honest, there was never anyone to talk to about this stuff without feeling like a coward or a “cop out.” It felt as if there was no place to validate or embrace these feelings for what they were, a misunderstanding. And, unfortunately, they just got more and more suppressed as time went on. It obliterated my confidence in ways that always made me question myself, especially around money.
In being able to look back on that time, one of the most pivotal things that was missing was a deeper understanding of what money was, and what it meant. Because I had the viewpoint that money was more valuable than me, I suffered immensely.
I needed to be taught and reassured that I was not just worthy of money, but worthy period. And not lectured and yelled at for missing the mark on something I had no idea or understanding towards.
I felt so betrayed by the adults around me. It seemed as if no one cared. So why should I care? Right? Why should I give a damn when nobody else did? So I proceeded in what i thought was a great idea, and avoided money at all cost.
This actually went well for a short period of time. But before long, things were into pure chaos. I had money stolen from me, I was working four jobs at once with no money to show for it, and often found myself calling my parents to help me out consistently.
Although they helped me every time, I could always sense the disappointment in their voices that I had to ask for help so frequently. Intuitively and empathically, I could feel them saying
“You hadn’t figured this out yet?”
The embarrassment was unbearable, but how could I figure it out? I had no clue as to what was going on internally. Long story short, I struggled and made extremely bad decisions. And for years, I felt like a terrible human being who couldn’t do anything right.
I couldn’t deal with it so I began to drink heavily to escape the unworthiness. I found myself playing chicken on train tracks, speeding down the freeway, and often getting concussions from passing out and hitting something from inebriation.
I just couldn’t deal with life…And in those moments it would be easier to end it, than suffer any longer…
Truth is, I just needed help. I was crying out through my behavior, but no one, I mean no one, knew the true story….I was dying inside, and was moving to a place where I was sure I would meet an early demise.
If you know of anyone in your life that are showing signs of “dying inside,” don’t hesitate to help them. Sometimes, because of our pride, we cry out through our actions instead of our words.
It was a fateful day that would change everything. I was injured, had just flunked out of school, had no place to live, no purpose, and of course no money. The first chance I got, I was going to drown my sorrows in alcohol.
All of my friends were busy so I went out by myself and drank the night away. The more I drank the sadder I got. It got so depressing that around 1:15 am, I found myself driving along the Lakefront. It was a semi foggy night so the vision was somewhat limited. But I knew what I was going to do.
I had had enough of living. No one understood me, no one was there for me, no one would help me. So what was the use? I’d run my car into the lake and allow it to sink with all of my sorrows and pain. This was it.
I got in the car, turned it on and Phil Collins, “In the Air Tonight” was on the radio. As I put the car in drive, took a deep breath…
My phone rang…I ignored it, and then it rang again…So I picked up.
At my darkest hour, it was the light I needed the most from life.
Life, in the form of a friend was telling me that my life was worth staying alive for…
It was so overwhelming that I cried for 30 minutes before I could gather the strength to drive home. I was saved from suicide at that point in dramatic fashion.
For the first time in a long time, I felt more worthy than money. I felt like the essence of who I truly was mattered more than anything else in this world. And it was the most liberating thing of my entire life at that point.
Although that was a big turning point for me, those thoughts still lingered for years. Whenever I got into a dark or desperate place with money, they would always come back. It was forever a fight for my sanity, but more importantly my life.
Because of the spiritual work I have done, it has gotten easier and easier to transcend these life-threatening feelings. I also feel fortunate to the degree that I was able to sustain long enough to learn how to help myself.
Not everyone gets that chance, so it’s up to us to step in and offer love in any way shape or form. Because my journey has personally involved money trauma, I have dedicated my life to empowering others when it comes to transforming limiting patterns and beliefs around all things financial.
In my life l’ve found that it’s expected for people to know how to manifest, manage, use, give, receive, and feel worthy around money, but that’s not always the case. Childhood misinterpretation or misinformation can create traumatic issues that can stunt our financial growth and lead us to extraordinarily destructive tendencies. Even suicide…
I never had the luxury of someone asking, lovingly and intently, what are you feeling? Use my story as an opportunity to never hesitate to ask no matter what.
Truth is, you could be saving someone’s life and not even know it. We have that much power that can potentially make the difference between life and death when it comes to suicidal thoughts and feelings around money or anything else.
Kindest Regards,
Rev. Shaun Robert Grant
“Let Kindness Lead The Way.”
Creator Of