Today I’ve been profoundly hurt by the death of a person. He wasn’t my friend, I had never properly met him. But I knew who he was, I knew his friends and I knew his life should be worth living. He commited suicide, and this is the one fact that will make it impossible for me to lay my head on my pillow tonight and just sleep.
The fact that he didn’t have enough strength to go on facing whatever situation he had to face will haunt me forever. I had never been properly introduced to him, but I grieve him as if he were one of my friends.
Rumor has it that he has killed himself because he was gay, but his family couldn’t accept it, and because of their rejection, neither could him. Imagining the suffering he was put through pierces my heart. But that’s just the start. Today, when he died, my best friend died along, I died along.
My best friend has dealt with depression for a while now, and before she went after clinical help, she thought about killing herself many times, and when things got too hard for her to stand and death seemed like the best solution, I was there for her. I myself don’t have a perfect working brain. My mood swaps a lot, and every now and then I get depressed. Every now and then I think things would be better if I died, and every now and then I plan how I’m going to put an end to it all. That could have been us, but we managed to overcome it; it’s so unfair he didn’t.
This moment is when the person feels alone the most. But truth is they don’t really want to die, they’re just so hopeless that things could possibly get better that death seems to be the best way out, and the person will cling to whatever sign they have that they are important to someone. A simple message might save a life if it makes the person feel that they should live on, that someone wants them around and that it’s worth trying a little harder, of standing the pain a little longer.
However sad it may be to say that sometimes it’s not enough, but most of the times, believing they have someone they can trust, someone they can share the burden with is everything they need.
I can place myself in his shoes to such an extent that it’s almost as if today I experienced my own death and it’s consequence to the people who studied and lived with me. And the worst is that I feel the blame is on me. I could’ve been the one to help him, to make him believe, I could’ve been the silver lining. But I wasn’t there. I failed him.