But do statistics make a difference and do post-mortem facts matter? Do my monthly contributions to non-profits make a difference? I beg to differ. I argue otherwise. I don't believe that suicide can be prevented but I do believe there are measures that can be taken to curb the ideations. I say curb, not stop.
Now, don't scorn me for saying so, but deadly health issues such as Cancer, Heart Disease, AIDS, Diabetes...are all conditions that can be treated but treatment isn't a guarantee for survival. And each person living with a deadly condition is suffering. Period.
Should we shame, ridicule, punish, slander, question someone who wants their pain to end? Should we turn our backs on someone who has been fighting chemo for years, has exhausted every option to feel better, who has ventured holistic alternatives, has resourced ways to survive, has sought the proper medical support, who has lost the energy to live their lives, is tired, depressed and has fought the honorable fight? Never.
In the same way I wouldn't want to see someone I care about- or even someone I have heard about- continue to suffer, I didn't want my brother to suffer anymore than he was. It hurt to see him hurting so, punching hard, exasperate himself to sleeplessness and to ultimately not have a sure cure to end his pain.
He found a way; my brother ended his life to end his pain. For his action and his desperation and for the man that he is, I do not fault him, I am not angry with him and I only honor his life by way of channeling his pain into the wondrous life he is.
Off-setting is easier said than done, however.
The holidays are here and I am sad. All the time. More than "usual". I suppose I didn't know what to expect this holiday season and put the "holidays are hard" out of my mind. But as November leaves blew in and December cold veered through, I shut down. Hand-holding over apple cider mimosas and caramelized baby carrots spread across the table like butter and I looked around for an indication that life is still yet a dream.
I cry nearly everyday- especially when I'm driving. I want my brother here to buy the Christmas tree and decorate it. I want him here so we can hang the falling icicles lights around the house. I want him here so we can sing cheesy holiday songs together. And I want him here so I can smile over at him while Mia glees in the delight of wrapping paper and prayer. I want my brother back and I'm easily affected by nothingness because he can't come back.
