Death by suicide is a terrible thing. What is worse? Life by depression.
Suicide does not happen suddenly. The death does, just like any other final breath taken. In an instant, the life you have here is gone. With our kung-fu school beach party coming up on Saturday and Robin Williams’ suspected suicide, I am reminded of where I was during our beach party a year ago.
Depressed and somber, I engaged minimally beyond what I felt was required. I was “present” and accounted for, but my spirit a million miles away. I had this consistent throb of pain in my chest, tears constantly at the ready and freely flowing when nobody looked.
I lived in this state for a couple of months. Progressively going deeper and deeper, contemplating life, death, and eventually suicide. I had initially brushed that thought aside as I had in past years, but each time it presented itself, the pull grew stronger and stronger, and the pain of life seemed to get worse. My body was heavy, my spirit dark. I even contemplated homelessness and allowing myself to go crazy instead of just killing myself.
One day I was driving home and my mind raced with these thoughts and my heart hurt intensely. The temptations flew around in my mind as tears continuously streamed down my face, and the darkest vision popped into my head again. I got scared and violently angry at this thing that tempted me and I screamed “Nooooo!!!” loudly in my head until the word finally came out of my mouth.
That was the beginning of my life.