Tonight I got a very nice email from someone I do not know and will never meet.
And the path to that email began decades ago...
I'm just going to warn you, right now and up front, that if you can't handle the heavy, please stop reading this. Because it's 4:37 am, I can't sleep, and the only thing on my mind is my Brother.
Joe was only with me for 19 years. And now he's been gone for almost 15 years. It seems impossible that those are the real numbers. His impact on my life continues to be deep and daily. He influences my relationship with my children, my stress level at work, my compassion for friends, and my attitude towards the rest of humanity. He taught me a great deal - and continues to do so even though I can't see him, or hear his voice or feel his arms around me anymore.
I still cry like a baby girl because I miss my brother.
I still get so sad and crushed by what happened that I can't even leave my room. I still feel like I failed him and I've wondered ten million times what could have been if I had only done something different.
And then I have those other days, when I am so angry with him I could just spit fire. How could he do this horribly selfish and destructive thing? Why would he hurt so violently the very people he claimed to loved? Could he not see far enough to think about the possibility of my future child having to deal with the ghost that lives in her house? She doesn't have her Uncle to play with or teach her things or crack up with in a darkened theater at some goofy movie. She will never know how amazing he truly was. Goddamn you, Joe! Why did you leave?
And just when I think I understand something about what happened, and I've forgiven him and I can move along now to whatever comes next, this one event of my life drags me back to my knees and threatens to kill me with it's pain all over again. Tonight I am there.
About a month ago I was going through some videos on YouTube from the band Staind. There was this great song from them a few years ago that was inspired by the suicide of a fan when the mother of the boy approached the singer (Aaron Lewis) after a concert. Aaron, of course, had no solace for this poor woman. He had struggled with depression and suicide himself, wrote some songs about it because you write what you know and what speaks from your heart, and that interaction brought about the song Waste, which is about dealing with this kind of tragedy.
While checking out the video for this song I had remembered, I was horrified to discover a string of comments from YouTube users who seemed incredibly short sighted and ignorant about the kind of misery it takes to kill yourself. They were saying things like; "you must be a real pussy if you are such a coward you would rather die than live" and "suicide is just the easy way out for someone who hates their life for stupid reasons". Now...most of that I can ignore because stupid is as stupid does. But it seemed to me that these were folks who didn't understand what this kind of death really means because it had not ever come crashing down on their head with it's pain. You can't hold it up. You can't. You will collapse underneath it for sure. And you will be trapped there for who knows how long. And when you finally make it out, and see the light of day and understand that life will continue, you will still walk around this world with the scars from the incident on your heart and mind for the rest of your days.
So, I left a comment of my own - you can see it if you go to the link to the video at the bottom of this page, but this is what it said -
My brother died in Oct of 94 because he simply couldn't live anymore. I miss him every single day of my life. I get angry at him for leaving - for not sticking it out - for not giving this life more of a chance. I loved him with my whole heart. I lost the very best friend I would ever have. But I can't blame him for leaving. And, because I love him, I respect his decision. I still think it sucks. But it took a kind of bravery I don't possess and in a very real way I'm proud of him. RIP Joe xoxox
Well...that comment spoke to someone. A guy named Joe, of all things. A guy who, while he was having a hard time trying to sort our his suffering, happened upon this video, saw my comment, and sent me an email through YouTube. It just said he was sorry about my brother, that he had lost someone too and thought about suicide, that he knows it's not easy losing someone and he hopes I'm doing better.
Wow.
And, just like that, some person I don't even know redeemed the idiots of the internet and restored my faith in the masses. My words spoke to him enough that he felt compelled to reach out. Amazing.
Suicide is a double edged sword like that...
Here is this Death. And you are in incredible agony. And there is no cancer or car crash to blame. There is only the decision of someone you love dearly. You want to honor them and their life, but it's so difficult to honor their decision because of your own pain. This horrible selfishness wants to say "how could you leave me here with all of this misery?". Ahh...but therein lies the true answer...
My brother lived in the same sort of misery I am feeling now. Except he lived in it everyday without any reprieve or any sort of cause he could point at and say "that's why". Every single day of his life was spent in suffering. Emotional, psychological, spiritual, physical and personal suffering the likes of which you and I probably won't ever understand. Hopefully, we will never understand.
I was recently rereading the amazing book Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace. There is a passage, towards the beginning, where a young woman, who is in a psychological assessment and is attempting to describe her pain to the physician, says it is an all consuming body pain. That her mental anguish is like being sick to your stomach - that feeling where you are nauseous and you know that you are going to throw up because you can feel something toxic inside you - imagine having that feeling in all the cells of your body. Imagine all of you, every part of you, feeling sick to your stomach like you want to throw up. Now, imagine feeling that way all the time. Knowing you shouldn't feel that way. That there is something wrong with you because you feel that way. She is begging for shock therapy to make the feeling go away. She would rather feel nothing than have to feel this sick feeling in all of her for one more minute.
I can imagine that is where Joe was. Full of despair and knowing it shouldn't be like that. Feeling this ache in his soul that nothing could diminish...
There were plenty of good times. Fun times of him laughing and playing and living. Time spent with friends who adored him. Time spent learning things he was good at and enjoyed. Going on road trips and hanging out at parties and getting wasted and having laughs. There were good times to remember, but you can't see them clearly from certain angles. Especially in the dark.
We must be able to live with ourselves. Able to dwell in our own mind at the end of the day with the things we have done and who we are and what we have become. You have to live with you.
In the end, his burdens were simply too heavy to continue carrying. I understand that now. It's no ones fault and there is nothing anyone could have done. He was in too much agony and it would have only meant more of the same if he had stayed. He was only 19 and he was so tired. Fighting himself must have been exhausting. I can imagine the relief that came with the knowledge that he wouldn't have to do that anymore - the peace he was finally able to have because of his decision.
Waste by Staind
Your mother came up to me
She wanted answers only she should know, only she should know
It wasn't easy to deal
With the tears that rolled down her face
I have no answers 'cause
I didn't even know you
But these words
They can't replace
The life you
The life you waste
How could you paint this picture?
Was life as bad as it should seem?
That there were no more options for you
I can't explain how I feel
I've been there many times before
I've tasted the cold steel of my life crashing down before me
Did Daddy not love you?
Or did he love you just too much?
Did he control you?
Did he live through you at your cost?
Did he leave no questions for you to answer on your own?
Well fuck them
And fuck him
And fuck her
And fuck you
For not having the strength in your heart to pull through
I've had doubts, I've had fears
I've fucked up, I've had plan
Doesn't mean I should take my life with my own hands
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