Sunday, August 21, 2011

If I Die Young

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar.

They're worth so much more after I', a goner.

And Maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'

Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'

"If I Die Young" by The Band Perry

Friday morning I was seeing the the still body of a man who felt his story would be heard louder coming from the grave. The horror and impact that suicide has on us comes not from graphic scenes. Although is may be rare for the body to end it's earthly existence peacefully, it is not the sight of a lifeless corps that touches us deeply. It is the questions of what pain and miseries this mind must have endured to be driven to seek relief in an act that contradicts our deepest nature. Our bodies have adrenaline, reflexes, and a fear of danger that drives us to want to survive. So when we see someone who intentionally walks down the road that leads to obvious death, it impacts us in a powerfully strange way. It make me want to pause and listen to the last words that that person felt most important for me to know. Perhaps also, it is what they felt least able to be heard or understood on. And so hear the words of a man standing in death's doorway and calling back a final time to the land of the living. Ponder them and let them influence your every relationship. Remember them when you pass the stranger on the street or your best friend at church.

"This house used to be filled with so much laughter, music, and love. Now it is as empty and quiet as the grave. There is simply nothing left inside of it, just as there is nothing left inside of me. I cannot remember the last time I didn't feel alone anymore. I cannot remember the last time I have slept without a nightmare either. There are so many people who love me, but I hate myself so much that the balance is hopelessly askew. I have given everything I have to this life. I have learned many things, I have shared in timeless moments. . . Now that I have found myself back in this place alone, the ghosts of my past are my only company. The mind is a fragile thing, and I know that mine is unwell. I have asked for help. I have called out in every way I know how. I won't ever understand why it was all taken away from me. Perhaps there just isn't a reason, and that fills me with such pain. . . I was an honest man. I did the right thing whenever I could. I have spent my entire life living up to the expectations of others as best I could. I wish I'd been stronger, but my sadness is simply too much. I am exhausted and welcome the call of a never ending sleep. Please forgive me."

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