Anthony Bourdain, an outspoken man, someone whose shows I loved watching as a kid. Who didn’t hold back his words and shared his opinions no matter how harsh they might have sounded. Even if they were against his good friends, he never stopped short of putting himself out there. It came as a big shock when I found he had committed suicide. Was he depressed? Were there some issues? Were there signs that people around him noticed?
“Suicide” I have had a close relationship with this word, and yet when I hear about somebody having committed suicide I wonder why. Every single time. What stopped me? What pushed them over the edge? Broken relationships, failed careers, ……… we try hard to pin it on that one reason that pushed someone over the edge. But in reality suicide is an accumulation of many things that happen over many years, waiting for that one final event that finishes it all.
And when you reach that point………
Thoughts racing…. the conflict between your self loathing and your anger against the people around you gets intensified….
Nobody gets me?
I am totally useless…. good for nothing.
Maybe it’s better if I don’t exist… maybe other’s lives will be better without me…… or maybe when I am not there anymore then they might realise my true worth.
It gets too much to handle… when all you feel is a deep anger for yourself and for others around you.
And then you get hit by guilt, an emotion more painful than pain itself. Guilty for being angry with the people around you. Feeling bad for yourself.
Anger… Guilt… Anger….. Guilt
Then the breaking point. You either stop yourself ……or …… you stop your life.
I have never harmed myself but have come really close to it multiple times. Sitting with a knife on my wrists.
Then a voice in my head says are you sure that after death the pain would stop. If you aren’t sure about life itself which you have seen so much of, what’s the guarantee what would happen after death. Maybe the pain will intensify. Maybe you will just be a ball of spirit filled with pain floating around with no body to express itself.
And then I choose to go through dealing with the uncertainties of life rather than the uncertainties of death.
Yet i get shocked when I hear someone’s committed suicide. Maybe it’s survivor’s guilt. Why didn’t I? Why did they?
For years I believed I was alone in this. That only I faced all these issues. Then you not just find out that you aren’t the only one, but many of the people you have looked up to all your life are in the same sinking boat of depression, trying hard to be happy and at peace.
Here’s the irony, you appreciated all their achievements except for one… their greatest struggle in life….. their own internal battles. The one you would have identified the most with….