I sit here on the eve of your death some 15 years ago. Of course I’ve had a few and have been listening to Runaway Train and Crazy Train a number of times. Not even sure why I’m writing this, but of course I do. It’s because I miss you. My girls miss you. And they never met you. You eliminated that possibility.
For years I’ve tried to come to terms with why you did what you did. I still can’t say I understand. I can’t say that I’ll ever be able to let it go.
Try figuring out how to explain suicide to a brilliant 6 year old, or a 4 year old that won’t stop asking questions. Sure I’ve read the articles. The thing is, kids aren’t dumb. So instead we just stick with the fact that Uncle Scott died. We already have to deal with tears just for that fact. Often for no apparent reason.
Why not just write this in a “journal”? Because the thing is that in the “adult world” we like to gloss over the issue. We make gun to the head gestures in jest not knowing the potential pain we’re bringing to those nearby. We take the “righteous” and “pious” positions that suicide is a sin or that the person who committed suicide was “weak” or “cowardly”.
Maybe, but what gives you the right? WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT???
The thing is, suicide takes someone from a family. From loved ones. From people who care about them.
Even if they’ve screwed up. Even if they’ve done stupid things. Even if [insert your own reason].
The point is… I would argue that mental illness is a real thing. It’s not a weakness unless by weakness you mean a deficiency in some area that most of us have plenty of reserves (or at lease enough to make it through).
To wrap up this rant let me just say…
- I apologize to any coworkers
- I’m sorry Mom and Dad (let me know if you want me to delete this. I may anyway)
- Even if my girls never see this they mean more to me than words can ever describe and it makes me appreciate how far my parents have come, because I’m not sure I could be so strong.
- I miss you Scott
Anyway, I’ll close with the poignant words to Runaway Train…
Promised myself I wouldn’t weep. One more promise I couldn’t keep. It seems no one can help me now. I’m in too deep there’s no way out…
Can you help me remember how to smile? Make it somehow all seem worthwhile? How on earth did I get so jaded? …
It seems no one can help me now. I’m in too deep there’s no way out. This time I have really led myself astray.
Bought a ticket on a runaway train. Like a mad man laughing at the rain. Little out of touch. Little insane. Just easier than dealing with the pain.
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Me and the infamous puke bucket got very familiar today. Can’t remember the last time I felt this lousy (don’t think I have at least in my adult life)
