A few days ago a legend passed away. Robing Williams took his own life. He did it in a way the speaks of only ending, not a half assed attempt. When one sits with a belt around their neck and leans into it, choking ones self..... it is even more brutal than pulling a trigger. I would imagine your mind is at war with your body. You want this done, you have made this decision and your body is going to fight and run on instinct to breath and survive. If you swallow a bullet you are done. It is pretty much instant. I feel for his family, and I grieve his loss... but I seriously hurt for him. The loneliness and the sorrow he must have felt.
I am manic depressive. It is a real illness and I take meds and I try and keep it in check. The older I get the harder it is. If I miss a day or two of meds now I can easily go off the deep end. I joke about my happy pills and "warn" folks when I am off my meds for what ever reason. They laugh it off but some know it is not a laughing matter. I am normally a very happy person. Full of rainbows and sunshine and try and be the light of everyone around me. But deep down there is a sadness that never goes away. I feel alone. Alone with a very capital "A". Even when I know those around me care and have my back and that I am loved... I feel this way. I can't explain it. I never really even thought about it in depth until this week.
On the other side of the coin I am pissed.... People are so judgmental, as they sit their on their high horses. "How could he do that, he had everything?" "Why did people leave him alone if he was at rock bottom?" "How could he be so selfish?" and so on. I felt like screaming at the women at my daughters school yesterday. "I am so glad you have never been in that dark place... but FUCK YOU" I have swallowed a bottle of pills before... in a full house with 3 adults home. Guess what.... if any of them read this it will be news to them. You can be the funniest man in the world... most caring and loving and happy on the outside and hide the broken bits under it all.
I have lost a few friends to suicide. Yes it is hard... and it hurts. But I will never question their decisions. Sometimes a soul is tired and it needs to go home. I don't see it much different from someone with a physical illness that is just done fighting. They are tired of trying to hold on and tired of being in constant pain. I remember the last conversations I had with both my Dad and my Grandpa. Both of them made the same comment...but my Dad's was more pronounced in our conversation. Dad stopped for a few seconds and all of a sudden sighed and said " I am so tired." It wasn't the kind of tired sleep could fix.. His body and soul were beaten down. He was a broken man and he was done. When I saw so many missed calls that one morning, I knew he was gone. I knew he was free. I think the problem with suicide is the shock. It is so unexpected and such an explosion of emotions unlike most other deaths. You don't blame yourself for a car accident you weren't involved in or when someone with a terminal illness dies. There isn't the huge amounts of "what ifs" and "coulda, shouldas". Plus there is the factor that this is a decision made by one person, regardless of how others feel. It is selfish and self destructive and taboo. There are religions that preach at it's wrongness. But for some, it is the only answer.
I could go on and on... but my shift is ending here soon. I have been off my meds for two days because I have not had the time to run by and pick them up and yes, I am on the edge tonight. But I will go home and have a good cry or maybe even just a needed laugh and tomorrow I will get up again. My soul is not tired, yet.