Yesterday, a man across the street threw himself off an apartment. He shattered both his legs as he landed, with bits of thigh muscle flying across the road. The first eyewitness reported that he died on impact. A girl sucking a lollipop was only metres away from where he landed. She was unharmed, but found crying; overcome by fear, anguish, and confusion.
I didn’t know the guy, but the news made me shudder. I have lost two friends this year from suicide, and let me tell you, people do not die when they die. They live on in the stories and minds of others, and in the case of suicide, these are filled with pain and regret. It is walking into a room full of your friends, family, loved ones, and the people who witness your act, and blowing a hole to the heavens – if that is where you end up. For the rest of us, it is a living hell.
I refuse to believe that suicide is selfish, but rather ignorant. Ignorant of the love and hope around them, of the strength and courage within them, and in believing that suffering ends with the end of one’s life.
Tim Ferriss writes in Some Practical Thoughts on Suicide:
“Your death is not perfectly isolated. It can destroy a lot, whether your family (who will blame themselves), other loved ones, or simply the law enforcement officers or coroners who have to haul your death mask-wearing carcass out of an apartment or the woods. The guaranteed outcome of suicide is NOT things improving for you (or going blank), but creating a catastrophe for others. Even if your intention is to get revenge through suicide, the damage won’t be limited to your targets.
A friend once told me that killing yourself is like taking your pain, multiplying it 10x, and giving it to the ones who love you. I agree with this, but there’s more. Beyond any loved ones, you could include neighbors, innocent bystanders exposed to your death, and people — often kids — who commit “copycat suicides” when they read about your demise. This is the reality, not the cure-all fantasy, of suicide.
If think about killing yourself, imagine yourself wearing a suicide bomber’s vest of explosives and walking into a crowd of innocents.
That’s effectively what it is. Even if you “feel” like no one loves you or cares about you, you are most likely loved–and most definitely lovable and worthy of love.”