There Are No Answers – Again…

Well… i guess i’m not quite done with this blog thing quite yet. Seems i still have a few things i need to say. And tonight’s message?

Don’t kill yourself, ok? Seriously. Don’t do this.

This is like walking out during the first five minutes of a shit movie. You know it won’t last. There’s always the slightest glimmer of hope that it might get better.  Or at least you’ll be able to entertain your friends by telling them about the shittiest movie you’ve ever seen….

There are no answers when a young man decides to check out.  Whether he’s 16 or 37.  The common thread, at least from my point of view on this particular night, is the herd of numb, bewildered and heartbroken humans… Shocked.  Angry.  Confused.  Comforting each other as best they can…

Scotch and kleenex.

i am an extrovert, and have an extensive collection of friends and acquaintances.  i never meet a stranger.  Truth is, i have very few close friends.  Last week, i would have put that number at seven.

Today?  Six.


62 thoughts on “There Are No Answers – Again…

    • thanks. the scotch started to take effect. well the ‘sleeping’ part of effect, not the ‘drunk blogging while under extreme emotional distress’ part of effect…

  1. Sudden death is something the human mind is unable to process easily. Too many unanswered questions, regret and no time for goodbyes can destroy more than one life. No words can heal, no words can say enough. It’s a shitty ride for quite a while afterwards, a journey of emotions that only time heals, but never completely.

    I’ve been there once or twice hen, so have you. I can only recommend lonely windswept beaches where you can empty your emotions and rid yourself of grief. All be it temporarily.

    You are not alone in your torment princess, oceans apart, but merely a pencil tip away should you want to unload.

    • welcome back to the trailer park, fella. sorry that you’ve found it such a mess, but i haven’t been in much of a mood to clean up. as always, i appreciate your words. and yes, a beach. i’ll have that opportunity next week… i need to use it to full therapeutic potential.

  2. Surprising. Shocking. Confusing. It does mess up those left behind. It’s hard to imagine an outlook so bleak that this is the only way out or through. And when it’s kept hidden? Even tougher.

    My sincere condolences daisyfae. ((Hugs))

  3. Oh, Daisy. I’m so so sorry to hear this has happened in your life. Again. Sometimes if feels like the strength of the emotion that is pouring through is more than the boundaries of your soul can contain. One hears of this sort of death and asks oneself, “Was there something I could have done?” When it is someone that you count among your close friends, that question has an urgency that is even more powerful.

    People hide things. And they hide their feelings, even from their very closest friends. So, in addition to not killing oneself, the rule should also be Open UP, let someone help you so you can stay to the end of the movie. There are plot twists you need to learn, and there are people who are ready, willing and able to help you get there.

    The world can be so overwhelming, and I’m sorry this has happened. You are in my thoughts today, dear woman.

    • thank you. we sit and try to connect the dots – and have been calling each other out when there is an attempt to step between the dots with an “if i only had…”. that’s a losing game, and not helpful… will pull out of this, no doubt. but right now, it’s pretty gnarly… i like the advice of “open up”… although sometimes there is pain that apparently can’t be shared.

  4. you have my heart, sugar. sending you a hug from the plantation and also, the offer of a place to just BE, if you need it. you KNOW how to reach me. i’ve got your back, babygirl! xoxoxoo

    • thanks, lady. much appreciated. i might find a reason to get out of town and head south sometime this winter, and i believe there’s a small airport in your part of the world that allows overnight parking…

    • trying to figure a way to schedule an NYC trip this fall. calendar is crunchy, but i would take you up on that… cool that you’re going to get to feel the power of that voice. it was pretty damn amazing. ms. bergen was delightful, as was ‘squiggy’….

  5. Sometimes, the lack of … hope. It’s exhausting. It literally deflates the sails. And then the thought: the longer I live, the shittier it gets. I am the problem. Only me. Without me, things get better. It wil hurt, but it will get better.

    I have these thoughts. Daily.

    Someone once said that suicide is the ultimate selfishness. Perhaps it’s that thought that keeps me getting up every morning …

    And my comment is in no way intended to divert attention from your pain and loss, my dear friend. Peace to you during this shit season …

    • thanks for writing this. i have heard this line of thought before – from others in the depths of depression – but you have articulated it very well. i am glad that you continue to get out of bed every morning, as are the beautiful humans in your family.

      all i can tell you, though, is that the people gathered today for a funeral will be forever changed by this experience. there is no getting over it, just getting on with it. you would leave a trail of permanent wreckage behind you my friend, whether you realize it or not in the depths of the darkness.

      you also remind me how much i love the village of humans from all over planet earth who live inside my computer. peace to you, brian. and you keep chasing those thoughts away… it gets better. even momentarily, it gets better. go with those moments.

  6. You know we’ll never know why they did it or even if they meant to, we’ll never understand the reasons, the who’s what’s why’s, we are not them, all we know is what it’s like when they are gone, sometimes it’s best to to shut the doors and close the windows and scream fuck you over and over and over at the walls… and sometimes you just pour a drink, turn on a favorite song and let the tears roll down while you smile at the everlasting nothing, i just finished my first Heineken of the afternoon, think i’ll crack another for you my good lady… and for the ones who have left us.

    • he loved his Stella, so there’s been a bottle for him on the table at both gatherings. but seeing as he’d call leftover beer “alcohol abuse”, we can’t walk away, so it gets passed around. got a feeling this may be tradition already…. already did the ‘scream fuck you’ routine, and have poured some drink (hence, the drunk, emo-blogging). and there are tears. lots and lots of those. snot, too, as i’m not one of those people who ‘cry pretty’. appreciate you stopping by…

  7. I am so sorry. I have seriously thought several times about killing myself. Each time, I could not go through with it because I could not bear the thought of what my suicide would do to one of my sisters. Yes, killing myself would have stopped the pain for me, but the price of devastating my sister was too high.

    • Thanks for sharing this. All i can think at the moment is that he must have been in incredible pain. And it must have been overwhelming. Very glad that you’ve stuck around – i’m sure the people in your life adore you, and need you very much.

  8. So sorry sweetie… so unfair… one wonders if he understood, if anyone who does this can understand, the devastating wreckage and permanent scarring he leaves behind on people that he probably loved and who most definitely loved him. I think most of us agree, we could never ever do that to our loved ones who will never fully recover – but when you’re in the moment and you’re facing the biggest and possibly final question of your life – it may only take a second and you can never take it back… so very very sad for everyone. I’m probably making no sense, but really, my heart is broken for you and I’m so sorry.

    • Thanks Amber. Been a shitty week. But he must have been in absolute hell, and we’ll never really know what it was like inside his head. We’ll get on with it. Broken hearts can still function… Appreciate your words… ramble on, sister!

  9. That’s very bad luck to have been involved in this twice. I wonder whether some peple’s brain chemistry is simply out of kilter–or is modern life in a Western society simply unbearable for some people (and it’s a very unnatural, individualistic, way of living)?

    • hard to say if it’s becoming more common, or if there’s less ‘cover up’ these days. brain chemistry can definitely be a factor. hard to know in this case. whatever the reasons, i’m sure he had them… and it seems he’d given it some thought in advance. i’m pretty comfortable with the concept that i will eventually die, and that will be that. i enjoy my days enough to resist the urge to hurry things along. apparently, he didn’t, and couldn’t…

        • the link here shows a general increase in the suicide rate through 2009. and as i was digging out that info, i found another reference stating that suicide is the second leading cause of death in US males, 25-35 (but i’m only half-heartedly doing the research and can’t find the link again). oh…. and men prefer guns. god damn it…

        • I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scratch your open wound. Or to make you do more research into this vile topic. I am going on a dawn walk on Saturday to commemorate National Suicide Awareness Day on September 10. The walk is called Out of the Shadows and into the Light and is open to anyone who has been affected by suicide in any way – and also to people who want to help lower the dreadful statistics if at all possible.
          I expect the walk to be beautiful and heartbreaking.

        • oh, no need to apologize… i’ve been chewing on this all night. should have taken up the offers to get out of the house. i think the best we can do is comfort the survivors of suicide, and the memorial walk you are doing seems designed to do just that. there is comfort in shared grief… that’s why we’ve developed all these rituals and cultural things that we do regarding death… reducing the overall statistics if at all possible? a noble goal…

    • Ahhh… it was the scotch that drove me to the emo-vague-blog post up there. Blechhh… i’m drinking wine tonight… perhaps safer. Hugs and warm thoughts gratefully appreciated…

  10. You’re completely right. There are no words. And yet you’re expected to say something. No matter what it is, it never seems to fit. It’s easier to write an entire eulogy than it is to say a few words of comfort at a funeral. I usually climb down the ladder all the way to the generic, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Which could be better translated into “I’m sorry I don’t have something meaningful to say that will make you feel better.” But there isn’t anything. If there were, we’d all be saying it. If there were some magical sequence of words to make everything somehow okay, those would be the words we’d all be using. So far, no one has discovered that sequence of words. I’m guessing no one ever will. And, of course, if they did, the words would instantly change.

    In the end, a hug and a nod is probably the only thing worth doing.

    • whiile there are no magic words, just showing up, or just writing “i’m so sorry”, helps. i’m not the most ‘huggy’ person on earth, but am finding myself a little more physical than usual.

      it’ll get better. but it’s gonna suck for awhile…

  11. I’m not huggy either, but damn! I hate hearing that you’ve got to deal with this impossible thing. Go on the vacation. Do whatever you have to do. You know, folks do whatever they want to do … including shooting themselves. I’m not so sure we should think it’s such an abnormal thing to do. His choice. Don’t assume that he didn’t care about you because he decided to get the hell out of here. After all, we go out alone anyway even if we live to be a hundred damn years old.
    Look. Would everybody have preferred that he hang around in misery waiting to die an acceptable death from cancer, a heart attack, whatever, so everybody could feel better about it? Nobody could have given him back whatever it was that he lost his desire to life for. Let him go, and wish him godspeed. It’s his business. Now, celebrate the funny shit and forget the rest!
    SMILE. 🙂

    • Yep. All of that….it’s a difficult point of view to adopt through the grief, but i see it. THere’s a little bit of ego thinking that something we said or did could have stopped it… moving on (see next post), but it will take time. As for the funny shit? Oh, there’s a bunch of that… looking through photos yesterday of his gorgeous food porn, found a shot of his sushi (not a euphemism) – where we’d arranged the ginger in the shape of a penis, because (basically) we’re adolescent boys… his sister-in-law noted that in all of the pics we’d provided for the memorial service, he was smiling and laughing and that we obviously had a grand time.

      We’ll get there. A week in the water and on the beach being eaten by tropical bugs will help. Thanks for this. Good timing….

    • It makes me very happy to see you getting on the other side of some of those challenges. We never really get past all of them, do we? Cheering madly for The Captain to find his groove, too! xoxo

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