With the recent passing of Robin Williams, Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade, I think it is now time to address a normally taboo social issue; Suicide.  Will this be dark?  Yes.  Will it be hard to read?  Yes.  Will it solve anything?  Probably not.  What I hope it brings is light to the issue.  I hope it gives everyone a glimpse into the darkness that some folks see, feel and deal with on a daily basis.

February of 1996.  I was a Junior in high school.  An ordinary life of school, college dreams and an obsession with swimming and competing.  A young life devoted to the pool and pipe dreams about a Division I scholarship and what life could be like if fate smiled and the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney would be a reality.  The dreamer in me could envision standing on the starting block and crashing into the pool as my arms churned and legs burned and I raced for the United States of America in the 100 meter butterfly.  The thought of it to that 17 year old boy was enough to make my soul smile.  The almost 40 year old now looks back and laughs at such a silly prospect.  

Swimming was the release and the reason for existence, or so it seemed.  I got to hang out with some of the best friends I've ever known including someone who did swim in those Sydney games.  My best friend for around 2 years was one of those folks.  She and I had a relationship that was typical of high schoolers.  We talked on the phone every night.  We lamented about relationships and classes.  We talked about dreams and wishes.  We shared smiles and tears.  We shared pain and happiness all the same.  We loved each other, but not in a romantic sense.  We were the best of friends.  We genuinely cared for one another in a sense that is hard to explain.  We went to movies, dances and theme parks together.  We never kissed, held hands or acted affectionately, but we loved each other.  A lot.  She was the closest friend I ever had.

A few months prior to that fateful February of 1996, she confided to me that her boyfriend at the time, raped her.  He raped her.  A 16 year old brain struggles to rationalize what that even means.  Someone who is supposed to love their partner did something that?  How?  Why?  He did that to my best friend?  My world shook.  I remember her crying so hard on the phone which led to me crying as well.  We talked for a long time that evening.  Longer than normal.  I told her she had to call the police.  To report him.  To not let this go.  But, like is the case with so many of those who experience abuse, she wouldn't.  She loved him.  She never called the police.

Days melted into weeks and I encouraged her to report him.  Our phone calls which were always light and fun, for the most part, turned dark.  Conversations centered around her quitting swimming, about running away.  About her feelings which were so numb.  Life to her, seemed hopeless and pointless.  Our conversations turned from daily into weekly.  Distance began to grow.

Then, that February night, everything changed.  She called me at my home.  She told me she loved me.  She said she'd had enough.  She said she wished I had done more.  She said goodbye.  I had no idea what was happening until her mother called to tell me about it.  About what she did.  All those pills she swallowed.  About the ambulance ride and stomach pumping.  About everything.  Suicide.

There is much more to that story.  Things that belong to me, and me alone.  Things I will never speak of and things that haunt me.  To this day, 22 years later, I am haunted.  I still have nightmares.  I still hear that conversation.  Experienced trauma in my own way.  A life of shackles to that memory.  Nothing will take that memory away.  Nothing will remove the hurt.  Suffering in silence.  

When you ask someone how they are doing, and they respond, "I'm okay.".  Ask them if they are happy.  Ask them what they are doing to bring happiness to their life.  What can the person posing the question do, to help them.  So many souls suffer in silence.  So many experience trauma that weighs them down to the point where they believe that ending their life will bring peace.  It will not.  It only exacerbates the pain for the living.  Are they cowards?  No.  They are in need of mental health.  Help them with the resources.  Counselors.  Group therapy.  Help lines.  Sitting with them and being a friend.  Never giving up on someone.

Mental health is something we as a society, need to focus more on.  Too many people are susceptible to it.  Veterans, people who experienced trauma, survivors of violent crime.  I cringe when I hear someone say, "I could just kill myself over this or that".  It's trivial and it's an expression that society has come to find acceptable, but it is not.  When I hear that expression, I wonder if they know what they are saying?  Do they really know?  The devastation the action causes never goes away.  It never gets better.  It rots in the soul of the survivors.  Questions remain, and are never answered.  Lives are broken, hearts are shattered, souls become lost.  

Can we save everyone?  No.  Could Robin Williams, Anthony Bourdain or Kate Spade have been saved?  Maybe.  Could this happen to someone you know or love?  Absolutely.  Paying a closer attention to these things could save a life.  And one life saved, is worth every effort.

https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org

Reach out to someone who may need help.  Ask them how they are doing, and truly listen.  It is our job as a society to take care of those who are struggling.  Every flower contains inherent beauty, but at times, those flowers begin to lose their vibrance.  In those times, the gardener must care for that flower more than ever...

"Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time..."

Namaste, friends.