My life over the past 13 days has been defined by asking many questions, crying many tears, and being very, very angry. I was taken over by a flood of emotions I've never experienced before and have yet to be completely released from it's throngs. I've struggled to speak, cope, process, understand, and sometimes function all because one man, my cousin, made a choice... he made the irreversible choice to take his own life and escape his pain while leaving the rest of us to deal with it all.
My cousin took his life for reasons that elude me and the many, many friends and family members who knew him. He hurt for reasons I will never understand. He felt that there was no other way out. And unfortunately he didn't understand that his choice to leave this world only magnified his pain and instead placed it all on a wife, a son, a mother, a father, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins, friends, coworkers, neighbors, and everyone else who knew him.
The pain that I was left with made me angry. How in the world did he have the right to take his pain and escape while leaving me (and a whole lot of other people) left to deal with the consequences and loss of his beautiful life. How could he? If he only knew all the pain he caused... If he only knew how he was loved... If only he had talked with someone about his unseen heartache. All of these questions and "what-ifs" still beg for answers... answers that I'm beginning to realize will probably never come. That is until I'm reunited with him in Heaven. And oh boy, are we going to have some seriously long talks then.
So, what am I learning from this devastating experience? Suicide is something that is rarely talked about. It's taboo. But, having lost someone because of it, I've started to look at suicide in a different light. I've been sifting through potential reasons why my cousin took his life and then why other people have made the same heartbreaking decision. More often than not mental illness and depression are key factors. Again, both topics completely misunderstood and avoided at all cost. They have a stigma attached to them. This stigma causes less than half of those that suffer from depression to seek out help. So, why? When you have a stomachache, don't you go to the doctor? When your throat hurts, don't you go to the doctor? When you have cancer, don't you go to the doctor? BUT, when it comes to depression... you deal with that on your own. NO! Mental illness and depression are sicknesses like any other and should be treated as such. It's nothing to be ashamed of!
I guess all my ramblings on are drawing me to some sort of conclusion -- that is to talk. Talk about how you feel. Tell someone if you don't feel right. Don't live under the lie that says your sickness is not worthy. Please. Suicide is a word that I never thought would be a part of my vocabulary. Now that this it is a very real and very current part of my life, I can confidently say that the stigma and perceived shame of admitting you have an issue that needs to be dealt with does NOT outweigh the lasting pain and heartache that comes as a result of suicide. It's just not worth it. Trust me.
