"The first duty of love is to listen" -- Paul Tillich
As we reflect on the
loss of so many of our brothers and sisters to suicide, there is so much to
come to grips with. We mourn the loss of
their faces and their hearts. We grieve
the future we had together and we remember the stories and times and memories
that will not fade away. But we are left with a question…the infernal question,
the damnable question: Why? Why did this happen? Why did they die? Why do we
kill ourselves?
And the answers echo
from all over.
We kill ourselves because
we are lonely. We walk in the streets
and pass in the hallways, but nobody stops to ask how we are doing. We hear
about parties and rumors of parties that we are not invited to. We stay late at work hoping you don’t realize
there is no work to do because we cannot stand going back to our empty home
filled with nothing but darkness; to sit in silence as the noises of the busy
world surround us only to mock our loneliness.
We kill ourselves
because we are confused. We often come
from homes and families that barely counted as such. We lived with parents who didn’t understand…or
who simply couldn’t. We are thrown into life
expecting to know the answers but only become more lost and confused as the
years add up. How? How did we become
this…this thing that is so foreign from when we started? We look at pictures of
our childhood only to see a stranger looking at us from the far reaches of time.
We do not see a reason to fight the plagues of life because nothing truly makes
sense.
We kill ourselves
because we have lost hope. What hope can
there be in a world that only knows misery? Where do we begin to look for hope,
when everybody is running after dreams that never come true? Our possible pasts
tattered behind us and we know that we cannot take back the pain we have caused
others. Religion claims a new way but we
see only judgment with no redemption.
The future offers…what does the future offer? The light at the end of
the tunnel grows dimmer and dimmer until it offers no light at all.
We kill ourselves
because we know the truth of ourselves.
At least this is what we tell ourselves. We know our hearts and we know
that we are unloveable. We see the
detest in other people’s eyes. We hear their
judgments in their words and we know that we have been found wanting. We feel
their desire for other people and we know we are not enough.
We kill ourselves
because we know that you will be better off without us. This insipid chorus runs in our head: we have
nothing to offer, nothing to share, nothing of value and nothing good. You say this isn’t true, but we know…we
know. We have sung this song to ourselves
so often that it becomes our anthem.
We kill ourselves
because we don’t know what to do with the pain.
We don’t want to burden you with it, because it should be ours
alone. And ours alone it becomes as time
goes by we drift further and further away.
We see you but don’t know why you can’t see us. We hear you, but don’t know why you can’t
hear us. We hide our pain behind jokes
and laughter and we become the clowns and jesters that everybody loves but nobody
knows. Or we simply fade off to places where
nobody looks. That dull ache in our
heart that we have ignored for so long comes roaring in and we can no longer look
away. It consumes our thoughts, it devours
our dreams and it robs our life. Every
day becomes torture and night becomes our prison. And…in the end…we kill ourselves because we
simply want the pain…to stop.
***if you or someone you know is having thoughts of suicide, please seek help. The national suicide prevention hotline is 1-800-273-8255. For military personnel, talk to your chaplain, your chain of command or a personal friend. You may email me at Robert.c.price@gmail.com***
