(submitted by Cody Ross)

Fourth in a series on suicide

SIDNEY -- Cody Ross chose to share his story, explaining his story in a clear and honest way because the path he took matters.  

 It shows how small patterns can turn into life-threatening moments, and how survival came from a series of choices, not just one big event. 

 "I slid into what I would now know as soft suicide. That looked like reckless choices, risky behavior, and numbing myself with substances. I tested my mortality and pushed limits without really caring what happened to me. Two moments stand out from those years. One was when I swallowed a bottle of painkillers. After a frantic realization of what I had done, I somehow made it through the night and drove myself to the hospital, convinced I might not survive. Another time I mixed a large array of drugs with alcohol, which ended in an ambulance ride. At the hospital I fought with staff, resisted police assistance, and doctors told me they were concerned my organs might be failing. These were not abstract moments. They were real hospital rooms, flashing lights, and people trying to keep me alive,” Ross said. 

 Life shifted when he got married and had children. He became sober from hard drugs, but sobriety did not clear up the mental health issues. He found purpose in being present for his kids, but the depression and anxiety remained. Sobriety offered stability, but it did not erase the pain he had been running from. 

 After his marriage ended, the stability collapsed. Ross says he felt lost, selfish, and worthless. Mental illness pulled him into a spiral where he began planning an exit. He thought about ways his children could be financially provided for. He convinced himself he was too negative a force in their lives and that they would be better off without him. That kind of thinking became crushing. 

 “The spiral reached its lowest point when I held a gun to my head. In that instant, a wave of shame and sudden clarity hit me. I saw my children, I saw the people I would hurt, and I realized there was still more to live for. That moment didn’t erase the pain or the struggles, but it became the turning point. From there I started making different choices: removing access to means when I knew I was unsafe, letting people in when I could, leaning on my children as reasons to keep going, and slowly opening myself to faith and support. I also spoke with a psychiatrist and began getting professional help, which was an important part of putting things back together,” he said.

He is alive today because of small, imperfect, ordinary actions. He said if any part of his story feels familiar to you, please know you are not alone. Whether it is the slow erosion of soft suicide, the moments of panic, the hospital chaos, or the planning that feels twisted into care, it does not have to end there, according to Ross. 

 Small steps can change everything. Tell someone you are struggling. Remove access to things that put you in danger. Reach out to a professional. 

 If you are in immediate danger, call 911. In the U.S., call or text 988 for crisis support. SAMHSA’s helpline is 1-800-662-HELP (4357). You can also text HOME to 741741 for Crisis Text Line support. If you are outside the U.S., please contact local emergency services or crisis resources near you.