I don’t know who this is for…

The Feisty One and I are back in the house that Poh Tah built. Poh Tah was the Feisty One’s father. By house, I mean the abode where his widow, daughter-in-law, and grandsons live. Not a dynasty. The trips back home are tinged with sadness and regret.

Eight years ago, Poh Tah died, literally weeks away from being able to move into the house he was building. His death was sudden. The circumstances are not clear. He was riding his scooter into town for a doctor’s appointment. It is not known why he crashed. Though he was transported to hospital, it was there he died.

         Last year the Feisty One’s younger brother took his own life

He had been weeks out from treatment for addiction. He hung himself. His wife and their sons saw the body as he hung.

          There has been healing around Poh Tah’s death. At times, there is humour, albeit morbid at times. There is profound sadness still as he is missed. The healing of the brother’s suicide has been awkward. The sort of healing that I assume those who have lost a limb experience. The wound closes, but life is never the same: never. Each of us carries the regret of what if… Obviously, it is a question that is wrought with grief.

         I don’t know who needs to hear, read, this but here goes.

Life is hard, and then we die. It is a shitty deal, I don’t know if any of us signed up for it, but it is the only deal we get. While you may have faith in God, when it really comes down to it, we only have each other. A loss of life is always a tragedy, for it leaves the lives of those around you emptier, more lonely. When we end our own lives, we have stolen from other people, our loved ones. Gone is the chance for us to be the difference in your life. Gone is the chance to pay it forward, or pay it backward or sideways. Even if you believe the only thing you have to offer is frustration and heartbreak, you are breaking the only deal we get! I am not telling you that your life may get better; that may be a long time coming. I am telling you, you make the lives of others better. You may not know it, and you may not know how, but you do. So, if you are thinking of ending your life, please consider what you are doing, for you are replacing memories with regret. You are leaving people, your people, asking themselves what they could have done differently.

I get to say this, write this, for I have contemplated ending my own life. There were dark days when I was obsessed with taking my own life. I chose life. Gratefully I had friends and a twelve-step program to walk with me. My faith was that someday I would stop feeling profound hopelessness. My faith was that if I made it through this day, the next might not be so fucked up.

So many of our faith communities hold that it is sinful to be suicidal, that it shows you are not saved, you lack faith, that you really don't believe. They need to shut the fuck up! To my mind, the dark night, week, month, or year of the soul is a process of becoming mature. Our pain, our struggle, can be from understanding how far we are from what God intended to be. It might be from being traumatized from being in this world. Almost every recovering addict I know had to deal with being suicidal. Remember, Jesus wept on occasion. 

Likewise, being depressed may be just that; being depressed. A toothache of the mind. There may be no deep dark trauma. It may be a matter of genetics. Still, there are those who will walk with you. Those who understand that emotional pain is not "just in your head." 

Find someone you can confide in. Someone who will walk with you. It might not be tomorrow, or the next, but the pain will pass. The grief of those you leave might not.

If you are terminally ill, if your disease is all that is left, that is another matter. People are not left wondering, “What if…”