Seven

My friend Yancy recently shared this article on Facebook, and it was probably the first time I read something about suicide and didn’t feel incredibly sad. Within the past several years, I’ve become a lot more open with how suicide has affected my life. I’ve spent a lot of time being ashamed of it or worried that people would treat me differently, but the more I open up about it, the stronger I feel. It’s painful and difficult at times, but I think it helps people to better understand why I react the way I do to certain situations or why I’m quick to jump into someone’s life if I noticed any odd behaviors, signs, or red flags.

By my count, and as far as I’m aware at this time, I can name seven people in my life who have committed suicide. That is not something that I’m in any way happy about, but it is a fact. The first was an 8th grade classmate. Several other classmates went since him. One was a former roommate, one a former coach. One I knew since I was 9 & he kept me sane throughout high school. One called me right before he did it. I had no idea that was what was on his mind, but it was.

There’s no way that the loss of a loved one will not affect your life in some way, regardless of how they died. People who have experienced loss via suicide are no different; we’re not special. We’re may be a bit more guarded and concerned and more willing and wanting to love people as hard as we can once we’ve let them into our lives. I tend to keep most people at arm’s length because you never know when someone’s going to exit your life, and in what amount of permanence. It’s my worst habit – worse than over-scratching mosquito bites, procrastinating, and not returning library books on time, all combined. I’m really bad at peopling and have a difficult time expressing how much the people I truly care about mean to me because they could be gone in an instant.

One of my major pet peeves is when people refer to suicide as a coward’s way out. I think it goes beyond a pet peeve, actually. It tends to throw me into a bit of a blind rage if I think about it for too long. Suicide is not something that people consider lightly over brunch or a while brushing their teeth. The decision to take ones own life is a last resort and, for some, the only thing that makes sense. There are people who find ultimate clarity once they’ve made the decision to end it all. It’s sad but peaceful. It’s not necessarily meant to be understood by those of us who remain, but that’s because our paths are different. The living tell themselves a variety of things to assist them in coping with the hows and whys of suicide. Accepting that it was the right choice for that person is a shitty thing to have to do and it’s ok to never accept it! I haven’t. But that doesn’t make it not true. I think it takes a lot of strength to know what you need to do, regardless of how horribly extreme other people will see your actions to have been.

Please don’t misunderstand me: I am not at all pro-suicide. I am more pro-free will. I think about it like this: There have been many times when I’ll see something posted on facebook and think “wow, that person is very wrong” and so I will explain my position on something that they said. This will either turn into a bunch of adults discussing various points on a topic, in a civil manner (I have witnessed this! It can happen!), or a ridiculous amount of name calling from strangers, angry messages, and blocking (more often than the afore mentioned civility). I always enter into these conversations knowing that I’m not going to change anyone’s mind, but maybe I will present to them facts that they never actually considered. They can then either take my opinions into consideration, or they can call me horrible names and stuff. To me, it is in the sheer interaction that is important, not necessarily the outcome. I can’t change your mind but I can let you know that I see you.

Regardless, it’s important to talk about things. Putting your feelings out into the world reinforces the knowledge that you aren’t alone and maybe there’s another way instead of an extreme. If Andre had told me “Hey, I’m going to kill myself tomorrow,” would I have been able to change his mind? This is a question I’ve been asking myself for almost a decade, and there is no answer. It’s not that simple. But will I spend the rest of my life telling everyone I know about George, Andre, Randy, Jason, Nick, Ben, and Jeff? Yes. I will. Jeff saved my life and he’ll never even know it. His death turned my life around completely as a depressed and miserable teenager who regularly thought about how much better the world would be without her in it. None of them took the coward’s way out. None of them died in vain. While I wish they were all still alive and I’m not ashamed of their actions. They had their reasons, and I hate that more than anything. But they’ve helped my understand things I never thought possible, and to be more aware of the people around me, even if I’m afraid to get too close sometimes.