Today is World Suicide Prevention day, ending National Suicide Prevention Week. All day I’ve been trying to think about what to say, feeling I should say something. Then I was working on school and two things hit me.
1.My brother killed himself in February of 2012. He jumped off of a building. He was a bright light in darkness and he took that light away. Not many people loved to laugh as much as he did and not many people could find a reason to laugh in any situation like Aaron.
My brother is not going to know that I have decided to get a degree in Veterinary medicine. That I found happiness in a small vet clinic in South Reno. He’s never going to read any of my completed books which he always wanted to do. He’s never going to see me as a I am now.
2. In November/December of last year I was very suicidal. To the point that I put a bunch of sleeping pills in my hand and counted them over and over while trying to decide whether or not to take them. I was in the worst, most soul crushing job of my life. I had mounted a bunch of medical debt while not even able to pay my bills every month. I felt trapped and alone. My normally bad depression was at an all time low.
I ultimately didn’t kill myself because I couldn’t force my mom to lose two of her children to suicide. It was small but it was enough to go another day. And then I confided in my best friend and that hurt her and that was enough to get through another day. That’s all I had for a while. Little things to force me to wake up another day.
In January I was interviewed for the vet clinic and started February 1st. That was my turning point.
A turning point I almost never saw. A turning point to finding meaning in my life in working with animals. Finding coworkers I love. Finding a reason to go back to college and feel like I was moving forward in my life.
Depression sucks. Really sucks. It sucks even more coupled with severe anxiety. And suicide seems like the best way to go. The only light in an endless tunnel of pitch blackness. But if I had died, then I wouldn’t have found the tiny glint of starlight that led into the open.
I miss my brother. I’ve said before and I will say again: he was my soulmate in the family. The soul who read epic fantasy and listened to heavy rock music. The one with whom I could share art that I found.
He would have loved Terry Pratchett and the Blacklist.
There is so much that he will never see and never experience because he couldn’t find the glimmer to help him keep going.
I’m not going to say that it gets better.
It does but that doesn’t help when you can’t see how it can ever possibly get better.
So all I can say is, if you are depressed and suicidal, find the little things. A smile from a friend, a conversation with a stranger online, a movie coming out you are vaguely interested in.
One day at a time. It’s all you can do.
And if you can’t find that, think of my brother. Think of Aaron. So full of life and love…
Who will never laugh again. Who will never hear the new albums from his favorite bands. He will never see his step children grow up. He will never see what becomes of his siblings or their children.
And if he had managed to hold on one more day…