Suicide Contagion thoughts, and why I say “Genie, You are Free”.

Suicide. It’s a dark word. It’s a place where that first primal survival instinct tells us not to go. A place we fear losing our loved ones to, and maybe even ourselves. It’s ugly. The things the human body does in death is best described as nasty. Suicide by asphyxiation is a particularly slow, and painful death. It also leaves a really disfigured body for survivors to find.
I’ve thought about it. I’m pretty confident that anyone who has lost a loved one has thought of suicide. In the end though, at least thus far, I’ve opted not to.
But depression, oh that is a dark, cold, lonely, raw, painful place. It’s a hard, deep, exhausting climb out of, with no guarantee that you won’t wind up right back in that place tomorrow, or in a week, or in a year. And then, it’s time to claw, an inch at a time back to being “not depressed” whatever that is. Over and over and over again.
It’s a war with no cease-fire, only endless battles to hold back from the abyss.
I’ve lived just over half of the lifespan of the late Robin Williams. I claim no kinship with him, nor personal knowledge of his struggles. I am certain though to feel his only way out was to take his own life though that his struggles were hard, perhaps harder than mine. Or perhaps there were just too many battles to fight, and he tired of the struggle. Either way I do not find any glory in his suicide, nor anything mythic, nor glamorous. All I see in his death is the pain he had endured, and that his family now endures.
And all I ask the great cosmic Devine is that whatever is left of him beyond death is now able to find the peace that eluded him in life, and that the Genie is Free.
Peace to you.

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