There have been a few suicides amongst my friends in recent years (it hasn't been fun). I'd like to highlight a contrast between two of them.
One guy, he'd been talking about topping himself since we knew him. Not in an attention-seeking way. Whenever the conversation turned (as it sometimes does with friends) to death or old age, he'd simply say he planned to die sometime. We knew he struggled with life, we all did, but he didn't make a fuss or scream and shout he'd just look us in the eye and tell us what he thought and then he'd carry on with the conversation perfectly normally as it were.
Then a couple of years ago he was really really struggling, and he went off camping in the hills with a lot of drink. He came back, looking haggard as hell but also sort of serene and didn't say anything we noticed at the time, but afterwards we realised he'd come to each of us in turn and made a quiet goodbye. Not a big thing, but he'd just spoken a few words to us about ... friendship and stuff. And the next week he jumped off a bridge.
Now, I'm not saying it was a good thing at all - I could kick his ASS for doing it. He was an awesome awesome friend, so kind and generous to everyone. I found out later that there'd been a really messed up guy living in the shed down the street from him, who our mate had basically saved the life of a few times from the local thugs and stuff, and given more money and food than he could afford himself. And having to speak to his mum at the funeral and after was ... unspeakably difficult. But she told us she knew it had been coming, and he'd made his peace with her too the day before. And in a weird way we all ... I dunno ... we could almost accept his decision. Not really, but almost. It was a decision.
And then, then there was another friend who struggled with drink and drugs, and had lived on the streets a couple of times. He'd never talked about suicide, he used to say things like "I wish I had cancer, then at least I'd be looked after". And he was struggling a couple of years ago. A couple of us tried to help him as best we could, but he didn't half make it difficult - running off in the middle of the night, ringing us from all sorts of places begging to be picked up and taken to hospital. But, well, he was my best mate so god damn what can ya do eh? You drop anything, and go, and kick ass when you get to him but do it while giving him a bear hug and telling him, demanding he listened that you love him. And he knew that we'd been there ourselves in the past, it wasn't like we didn't understand his hurt and fear...
And he got off the streets into a half-way house, where there were professional counsellors and help and activities... and security. He was looking so much better, so much healtheir, like the mate we knew. And then out of the blue he hung himself.
That was tough. His family were simply destroyed. His mates were destroyed. The poor buggers in the house he was in were destroyed. It wasn't even... he didn't do it cleanly. It was the ... it was like he'd done it out of some sudden rush of anger, like a tantrum at the world but one which f**ks up EVERYTHING.
And.. well... it really wasn't good.
Don't commit suicide, anyone. It's such a selfish thing to do, it really is.
If you hate yourself so much you want to die, then probably you hate yourself enough to take the pain of living. If you hate yourself, if you think you deserve to die, then suicide's cheating - if you think you deserve the worst, then BLOODY LIVE WITH YOURSELF!
And if things are that bad you can't see any way out of the pain, that's the sort of pain that says you care. You care about yourself - that's why you can't take the pain any more. But if you care about yourself, then care more about yourself than the pain. BLOODY CARRY ON CARING! What's the point in hurting coz you care, only to do something which shows you never gave a ****?
The only way suicide will NOT be a cheat is for someone with a horribly debilitating, chronic, last-stages, terminal disease. And even then.... still not the first option.
Suicide? **** THAT.
