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Suicide Is Not Painless For The Loved Ones Left Behind (Part 1)
I Considered Suicide 16 Years Ago.
“But in the end, one needs more courage to live than to kill himself.”
― Albert Camus
I have only —WTF, ‘only’ ?!— thought to take my own life once before. I was facing divorce and I truly felt as if my whole world had collapsed to pointlessness right before my eyes and behind my eyes where it counts the most. But I was a husband and a father.
I was and had been loved so much, but when you are in the depths of that deep abyss such knowledge is utterly meaningless to your mind that you had love, what you can only feel now is the finality of having been loved.
Knowing one has been loved does not help, it actually reinforces the pain of loss. And that is exactly what it is, the knowledge of loss. You believe it is the end — of something so profound and so of everything that is/was important in your life. For you, it is the death of love. And every memory is a memento mori forever.
So logically you must join in this memento mori by journeying to the place where your love has gone — by paying that solemn and silent ferryman to cross the river and take you to the land that allows for no return. Yes, I am a romantic and that is why it will always hurt so much.
