This guide is a short explanation of the six stages of suicide with practical activities to help you prepare and assist your mind in the event it becomes irrational and unsafe.
Roy Baumeister, a social psychologist described these stages that people experience prior to carrying out suicidal acts.
Included is a mind-monitoring tool to assist you in identifying if your mind is displaying signs of reacting within the various six stages. This tool provides actions you can do to support your mind. A link to a printable PDF of the tool is included.
At the end of this guide, you can find a list of help crisis hotlines for various countries.
My original article is independently described as a:
‘Very good report, written in a humanistic way. The observed stages of suicide are of serious scientific interest, i.e. can help in preventive terms’.
The more you understand how your thoughts and emotions respond in irrational ways the more you can transform your actions beyond the influence of an unhelpful mind to that of a supportive mind and live freely and fully.
If you are a therapist, this is a useful resource for your clients. It also is filled with illuminating content for those people curious about the irrationality of our minds and how to prevent that from interfering with our quality of life.
“Stages of Suicide is an excellent insight into the though patterns of those dealing with suicide. Each stage very well describes the kind of thoughts, behaviours and emotions one feels as their condition continues, which I found extremely accurate and relatable. As for someone who has experienced these stages second hand, this is an incredible tool that can help non-suicidal people understand what it is like to be suicidal which I believe is one of the most important things for dealing with suicide on the larger scale.
After each stage there is a ‘prepare your mind’ section which works as a helping hand/’what to do about this’ counterpart of the stage. I found this to be really useful in not only making the content a lot less daunting and overwhelming to take in, but the reader is reminded that regardless of what stage you find yourself or someone close to you in there is always a solution to help you get out of it, which is exactly how this book approaches the terror of suicidal ideation.
Moreover, the mind monitoring tool at the end seems incredibly useful to help the user understand their own thoughts and emotions as they go through stages as well as help to generate some rational thinking patterns.
Overall this is an extremely insightful and practical helping hand for those dealing with suicide. Definitely recommend this to anyone who are either going through it or know someone who is, this book can help!“
“It’s not often I find myself holding my breath as I read a book, however in the opening story of Wild: Life death encounters with wild animals, I was doing exactly that.
The shark encounter at Murramarang Beach raised those old fears which were embedded into everyone who watched the 1975 classic, Jaws. I watched that film as a child and was terrified for some time of the overcast days at the beach, when you couldn’t see what was under the surface. Even though I know Dr Myfawney Webb, and am familiar with many of her stories of an adventurous life, I was still riveted to the pages of my kindle as I followed her narrative of the shark encounter.
Myfawney has a knack for bringing you into her experiences, through the truth of the tales within this book and the authenticity of her voice.
It’s a real talent to be able to convey emotions such as desperation, fear, sadness and terror while staying true and real to her story.
Dr Webb has achieved this, and it was a real joy to see her stories brought to life with such passion.
I can highly recommend this book to any lovers of adventure, wildlife, Australian experiences and those who like to read a book perched on the edge of their seat.”
Helen Menzies
5.0 out of 5 stars Journeys with Myf
Reviewed in Australia 🇦🇺 on 17 October 2021
“It seems to happen in my life that I set out for an adventure and it’s dramatically rearranged by the gods into one of those deep priceless experiences.”
So says Dr Myf Webb in Life Death Encounters, and it’s no exaggeration. The book is a stirring tale of derring-do, told in an authentic down-to-earth no-fuss Australian voice.
“I … reflected on how I had somehow survived three direct active threats on my life by three very different types of animal, a Great White Shark, an Eastern Brown Snake and now a wild buffalo bull.”
To that list of adventures the spellbound reader can add spiders, wild horses, wild donkeys, beached whales, the hunt for secretive possums as part of her doctorate work, and being thrown from her horse when it was attacked by a bull-Arab hunting dog intent on murder.
Phew.
Most of these stories were written by Mfy Webb during her year-long treatment for cancer. In a lifetime of challenges this was yet another to overcome. The details of that adventure are yet to be published, but readers of Life Death Encounters will know to anticipate another inspiring journey of curiosity and courage.”
menace aforethought
5.0 out of 5 stars Wild by Nature
Reviewed in Australia 🇦🇺 on 3 October 2021
“It’s wonderful to see these works collected into a book. These are stories not just of the wild, but of the inner being, how we tread our path through the world, how we learn about ourselves and how to become a fully engaged person through challenges that we sometimes seek and which are sometimes thrown at us by life.
The stories not only surprise with the breadth of Myf’s experience from her work as a mammal specialist, travelling and living in remote Australia, but also in her love of animals and the wilderness in general. She takes on an immersing ride surfing, fascinated by a shark attack until the reality of the risk finally hits home. ‘This is the first time in my life I have completely and absolutely maxed out on exerting my body physically.’ We are there with her, feeling that intense moment, the stress of trying to get back to shore when there are no waves to help and splashing could be the worst possible idea! Fortunately, this is followed by ‘White and pure EUPHORIA’, and she is safe on the shore. But danger was never far behind her in the bush while she studied mammals, or even when she was young, and being confronted with angry brown snakes as well as death adders, yet that didn’t seem to faze her. Although she has learnt to respect the angry brown snake a little more over time. I remember going out with her and her reptile specialist husband, Johnno, on one of his field trips to collect death adders near Darwin. My partner John and I were in the back of the ute as he drove along a road between rice fields where he would jump out from time to time and bag one, only to toss it in the back with us! One thing I learned from our early time living in the upstairs flat from them in Glebe, where they were breeding Funnel web spiders to feed his study animals – death adders – life was never dull around Myf! A photo of her in the book, smiling while a python winds itself around her neck is a classic!
Whale rescues and her surprise at the bond she formed with one, her hundreds of efforts trying to trap wild Rock-ringtail possums in Kakadu, and I know she had to wear beekeepers kit at least at times to protect her from swarms of killer mosquitos, lost in the Kimberly among ‘dodgy mineshafts’ with a ‘team of blokes’, ‘waking up in the morning, la de la de la, walking down the sandy creek bed,’ and being confronted by a wild buffalo, one of the most dangerous animals you can encounter in the bush, the scientist in her even taking in that he pawed the ground with his left foot, so perhaps one part of the 7% of ‘left-handed’ creatures! How she escaped this situation is classic. She came off less well when her horse she was riding was attacked by a dog, ending in a 15-kilometre trek with a broken arm and a one-handed drive to hospital!
“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
This quote from Alice in Wonderland seems particularly apt when I think of how Myf has crashed her way through life to contribute enormously to our understanding of the natural world, and perhaps this is how people have to be to do this work. So, it is not surprising that she has fought cancer with the same chutzpah, and now has given the world a wonderful collection of stories from her adventures to inspire new generations to get out there and go for it!”
My initial thought of going through radiotherapy to treat my breast cancer was “yeah I’m so not looking forward to grappling with the conflict of allowing my body to be bombarded with radiation”. The word radiation glowed luminous green in my head, and although I hoped that it would kill any remaining rogue cancer cells, I knew that radiation kills people. I’ve seen the extreme photos of Hiroshima where everything turned to ash. The imagery in my head was of my body slowly turning into tiny grey fragments and disintegrating like those Japanese people. Or would my body remain intact until I fell apart one random month into the future? These thoughts crowded my head but I suppressed them.
I didn’t know how I’d cope with a daily schedule of turning up every single day, five days a week for five weeks, whilst being pleasant to everyone… everyday. The effects of the chemotherapy hadn’t worn off and I still felt crappy. What I came to realize during those weeks is that besides the most obvious gain – an increase in the odds of living – there were unexpected bonuses that I could take home from the whole experience.
For my cancer type, radiotherapy increases my overall chance of survival by about 10%. I needed to know this before I commenced the treatment. My radiotherapy doctor spent plenty of time in our consultation showing me the results of studies with and without radiotherapy for my type of breast cancer. Perfect! I told him I needed that to help me feel good about the whole thing. For my cancer, this radiotherapy has better outcomes than the chemotherapy I’d just finished. Type of radiation for me? Photons. Photons are light particles so I tried to think of it as light therapy. Light as in life, and NOT that going up to the heavenly light thing.
So the next thing I had to grapple with was whether my heart would be damaged by the radiation because my tumour sat right above my heart, and the therapy involves focusing the radiation on the tumour. Well two things saved my heart from damage. Firstly, the physicist, who designed my ‘more complex’ treatment plan algorithm with the configuration of directions and angles of all the beams across my upper body, did an excellent job by bypassing my heart. I saw the images of my CT scan and the intricate beam patterns over layering the top. He said that I’m not the usual patient (yes I keep hearing that) as no one has ever asked to talk to the physicist before. It’s not that I don’t trust people’s words, it is just that I understand better when things are more tangible and then I feel like I get it then. I wished to see what they are talking about not just hear it from their mouths. He went through the plan report in detail explaining the acronyms and jargon terms for me. And I had questions that only he could answer. Serious questions about radiation that had been bugging me the whole time but I was too scared to know the truth till I was near the end of treatment in case I backed out and didn’t complete it. I’ll get to that soon.
The beam configuration over my left chest wall and shoulder.
The second heart saving measure relied on remaining perfectly still. I had to hold my breath to push my chest cavity out and drop my heart away from the deadly beams. Perfecting this technique became my goal. Thanks to the staff who reassured me all the way through the process, I began to look forward to holding my breath twelve times each day for the 80 second period it took to radiate me. These long breaths could have been broken into 40 seconds instead but that meant more time taken up. At first I tried to imagine that I was surfing. I envisioned taking a breath before enduring a massive underwater hold down but this backfired because the reality of a surfing hold down is that if you panic you can drown. That scenario was too confronting. Instead, I imagined I was diving down to a deep coral reef on snorkel, which stretched time into 80 seconds. In my mind I could see the anemone fish close by, and high above, the Barracudas circling backlit against the sun. There was also a cheeky green moray eel but not wanting to involve sharks, I soon ran out of new things with this adventure. I then developed a whole string of different walks that I knew well, adding in as much detail as I could. (One of these is a childhood walk or rather run you can read about in my memoir story Freedom Creek). Using this visual imagery relaxed me, and kept my heart rate down, and allowed me to hold my breath for the duration of the walk, sometimes with air to spare. Later, practiced this in the spa at home, and made sure I used my method of taking up the air slowly and ‘locking the chest’ compartment while I held onto the bottom of the pool. I then practiced this while body surfing and then when my skin became strong again, I could do it whilst surfing. I even taught me daughter my technique so she has more confidence surfing. I wasn’t expecting that!
On the radiation bed
Another bonus I didn’t expect was becoming comfy in my own skin…without boobs…fast. I thought I had come to terms with losing the ‘girls’ but actually I hadn’t. My mind was still catching up with the reality of the surgery that removed a part of my femininity. At the time all I could think was that the boobs were bombs implanted inside me which needed defusing by removal before they exploded and sent me to oblivion. Due to my skin feeling too sensitive during the radiotherapy treatment I couldn’t wear any restrictive clothing like bras or synthetic materials. At first I felt resentful that I couldn’t wear my padded bras and feel normal after all I had been through. My boobs had come off nine months earlier and I no longer had any cleavage, I had a flat pre-prepubescent chest. I ended up wearing skimpy tops like halter necks with no padded bra for boobs. It was summer and it was hot. Before long I felt normal and attractive again in my attire thanks to being forced to go without the fake boobs day in and day out during the treatment. I worked out that if I chose the right top such as a gathered style at the front, then I looked sexier than some of my old outfits with the padded bra. Now six months on I remain equally comfortable wearing or not wearing cleavage. Without undergoing the radiotherapy I doubt I could have reached this mindset so fast.
As it turned out, in the end I didn’t have to worry about coping with the daily radiotherapy treatment session. I looked forward to seeing the staff who looked after me, and I enjoyed great conversations with everyone from the manager to the radiologists to the nurses, the other patients, and even their partners. One time my daughter came with me and the ladies were happy to show her everything and let her check out what they did with the machine behind the window. I asked if she could take a photo of the screen on the machine, which was great because only then could I actually seemy heart dropped back in the cavity with my breath holding technique in action. These people are a special type to care for us when we are at our most vulnerable and I am so grateful to them for their warmth and the humanness that they gave me.
A photo my daughter took
Towards the end of the five week treatment, I was walking past the wooden book swap cupboard in our neighborhood, and as I peered in I found the book ‘Shockwave Countdown to Hiroshima’ by Stephen Walker. I took it but I couldn’t start reading it for a while. Then I couldn’t put it down. Some of the assumptions I had about Hiroshima were wrong. Hundreds of thousands of people perished, but miraculously, some survived. The author interviewed a handful of Hiroshima survivors who were healthy, even though they were relatively close to the T-shaped target Aioi bridge where the bomb known as ‘Little Boy’ landed two hundred meters away. The bridge itself survived. Not everyone who survived suffered a long term decline from radiation sickness. Today, radiation is being used to save lives. My body and my life may have been saved thanks to a technological breakthrough that wreaked horror in 1945.
Now to that serious question for the Physicist. Yes the physicist not the physican. How does the photon ray bombardment compare with the rays that victims experienced in Hiroshima and Nagasaki? What I really wanted to know is if the long term side effects would be the same. Photons used in radiotherapy treatment are non-ionizing radiation and have less energy than ionizing nuclear reaction radiation. The rays passed right through my body rather than linger. On the back of my shoulder there is a dark patch of skin where the rays exited my body away from my organs and bones. This is amazing technology. My bones should be quite intact and my heart has been protected. I wondered about my circulating blood being irradiated but I suppose as it keeps moving, and cells keep turning over then it should be fine too.
Exit point of radiation can be seen as the red circular area on my upper back
So I have no regrets about going through this treatment. My concerns and fear were replaced with good things. I’m glad I asked the questions about the treatment, but I should not have been such a chicken and asked them way earlier.
A trip in January to the high country again and I felt like I kind of hit Ctrl + F5 and refreshed the page in amongst the granite mountains.
“Soon I’ll be back in the strong powerful granite lands with my body intact and pretty much back to normal with another smile like the one in my photo”.
Those were my words I wrote in story 2 of Sourcing Strength entitled The Summit Run, and yes I am happy to say those thoughts turned into reality.
The January before this in 2018, I had been diagnosed with a rare type of breast cancer but for some reason I felt I’d be alright with this. I decided to kick back for the year like I had a broken leg and extreme morning sickness and then after twelve months I’d be back to normal, or at least mostly normal. So now after that heavy duty year and constant running to keep my stamina levels up, I managed to make it to the top of Australia again to close that loop.
Sure, I didn’t run the 22 km this time but that’s partly because I learnt some difficult lessons during the year. One of them is about the hated words of “listen to your body”. Gees did I hate that line. People spewed it on me all the time, mostly wise health care people. And did I suffer when I ignored them!
Cycling to the Summit
Nor did I reach the summit solo. The main photo shows me and my husband on top of Mt Kosciuszko which is symbolic really as he helped me so so much during the year. Our kids reached the summit too. They gave me strength throughout the year in a myriad of ways so it felt right that we all ascended the mountain this year together as one.
Summit family photo
So many people within my life strengthened me up and if you are one of them, you too are in that photo standing with me up top of Mt Kosciuszko. Quite often, the tiniest action or few words from someone (that probably they were not even conscious of) translated into giving me a kind of power that fueled me along just at the right time. My ancestors gave me strength too and you can read how in my Story 1How my ancestors gave me strength– Sourcing Strength.
New piece of granite rock
The granite lands imbued their energetic vibe into me once again and I selected another small piece of rock to take home with me in case I feel the need for a booster during this next year. When looking at my new second rock, it feels great because it reminds me that I really have completed that past year, it is over and I managed to do it just how I had planned to. These happy reminders happen at unexpected moments. For instance, the other day while waiting for our kids to arrive home on the school bus, I was chatting to a neighbor.
He asked, “So how is all the cancer stuff going?”
I said, “What cancer stuff? That was last year”.
On the summit of Mount Kosciuszko, on top of Australia. 2018Summit Again 2019
I’m searching for a hint of falseness. The more I can’t find any, the more energy I’m imbued with. Even though I’m standing atop Mount Kosciuszko, feeling happy might seem odd given the life changer spanner sent my way the day before. Looking at my face in the photo of me standing on top of Australia reassures me. I look at this photo on my phone and zoom in with my fingers to scrutinise my expression some more. Yes, I really do look happy.
Happy!more happy…
Picking up my speckled granite rock, an ancient stone chip created in explosive volcanic times, I slot it into my cupped hand as if slipping it into an envelope. I feel power and strength transmitted to me as I do this. It strengthens my psyche and empowers my flesh. In my mind I think about the overall deep seated knowledge that I WILL be the same as I was that day on top of the highest mountain in Australia nearly a year ago.
My granite power rock
Two years ago, I picked up that rock chip from the side of the road close to the summit, and kept it near the front door in among’st a stack of other colourful pieces I’ve collected from here and there. I didn’t know then how important it would be to me in the future but I remember carefully selecting a rock that had a shape that felt easy in the hand. After that summit run last January, it has been my micro generator throughout the year when I’ve often needed a mental kick start. A reminder that my body will be okay and I’ll still be able to run and do everything I did before, even though my body has been ravished by surgery and chemotherapy. I WILL be the same. Maybe even better…somehow.
The granite is part of the main range where Mount Kosciuszko sits high up over the blue land far around. Several years ago, in a shallow valley to the north-east of the summit, I walked alone between the snow drifts. There were shallow peat pools and a ground cover of soft pale grey green snow grass. As I walked close to a jagged black rock tor that towered over me, I heard a roaring sound like that of a jet flying overhead. It reminded me of the earthquake I experienced in the Kimberleys in remote Western Australia which sounded like about eight jumbo jets. The loud rumbling sound penetrated the air and a sort of shimmer wave moved past me and wooshed away across the alpine valley. Looking around, there was no wind moving the white paper daisies or the snow grass. No jets in the electric blue sky, nothing. All I know was what I felt and heard, and I can only describe it as perhaps a spirit or some type of energy I had flushed from the tor. No malevolence, just kind of it.
Summit Track
In January this year, as I ran over that solid and dark, speckled ground to the summit I felt a great sense of power in the land. I thought about the energy spirit thing that ‘resides’ a few hundred metres from where I ran. The day before, I had phoned my doctor for the results of a biopsy test and he told me that I had breast cancer. Four days of preparation in my head helped me prior to hearing this news. I had rationalized stuff. The twenty two kilometre run solidified my rationalizations. I did feel good.
Grounding to earth
I was grounding myself to the earth with every step. I was confident then in returning to my normal self after the year of treatment. I have been confident during the year of surgery and treatment with a little help from my speckled rock and from strong human support that I have been so lucky to have gained. I am still confident. I trust my knowing myself. Soon I’ll be back in the strong powerful granite lands with my body intact and pretty much back to normal with another smile like the one in my photo.
Last month I knew I had to do something. May 1st was on its way. That day I would be doing something I truly feared. The fear is from not knowing if I am doing the right thing. I knew that if I went through with it then I alone would be responsible for the consequences. If I choose this I would allow my body and brain to cop a heavy hit of cell-destroying drugs. These drugs have a low probability of working on my rare subtype of breast cancer but maybe, just maybe they will save my life. The drugs may have irreversible side effects including serious cognitive impairment. This scares me the most. I know that these drugs may prevent secondary cancer that I may not even have right now, or later on in the future. I feel like there is nothing rogue left in me. No bad cells anywhere. Do I put my body through this and come out the other side a zombie? Or do I not go through with it and maybe regret my decision because I die young from a cancer that spread? So this is the fear.
I cannot reconcile my fear in my head. Usually I am good at doing that but for this I can’t, not yet. I needed something additional to give me some strength. Already I have been overwhelmed by support from friends, family, acquaintances and strangers but I am greedy. I reached beyond the living to the dead. I gathered up strength from my ancestors to go through the third nasty infusion of chemotherapy drugs. Two weeks before the horrible day, I asked my mum for her father’s old Masonic ring. The next week she gave it me.
I never knew this man but everyone is strong in their way and that’s what I wanted from him, a little piece of his strength.
Same goes for my other ancestors. I wished to suck up some of their strength.
On May 1st 2018, I dressed and slipped onto my fingers, my grandfather’s ring from my mum’s side of the family and my grandmother’s ring from my dad’s side who, with her husband I never knew. I wore my wedding ring and gained my husband’s strength and I wore a ring from his grandmother who I was very close to. I also wore a ring I had made at school for myself to remind me not to forget my own inner strength. None of these rings are full of jewels and they are not valuable in terms of money but to me they are priceless. To touch and handle items my ancestors wore, particularly those I never met, helps makes these people real and tangible to me.
As I settled into the passenger seat of mum’s car to go to the hospital, mum presented me with her mother’s beautiful Dux award from school. She told me she would wear this around her neck with a piece of string during exams for good luck. This took me by surprise. It made me feel complete. I loved my Nan and now I had something from her. I thanked mum and told her I didn’t need to wear jewelry she had given me because I had what was better and that is the real thing, her, by my side. I now had all my families with me now and I felt ready to face my fears.
They all took a piece of that fear and dread away and they all gave me a piece of their strength.
