I hadn't seen one of my patients for a very, very long time. Two whole months to be exact. For a patient with a hand injury, this can mean the undoing of months of rehab, and can be very detrimental to one's rehab potential and function. Today, I managed to see him again, as we brought him back for a review.
I briefly spoke to him, and when I asked him what happened to him, he shared with me that he was away because he was busy handling the death of his youngest 18 years old son who had committed suicide just two months ago. I was horrified and mortified, and was very apologetic when he waved to me and said that he's okay, he'd accepted it already.
Perhaps he has already grieved. Perhaps he expected it. Perhaps this is the power of the human mind and heart.
Whatever it was, it was only moments later where strong emotions surged into my being, and I was flooded with sense of grief, mourning and sorrow, for the loss of a son for my friend, and for the loss of a person to suicide.
He told me that his son had been struggling with depression for years. And suddenly what came to my mind was that I imagined that his son was probably feeling extreme helplessness, pain and sorrow for him to have made and carried out such a strong choice.
I am so sorry, my friend.
I am truly saddened, and grieve for your loss. Despite the fact that I've haven't had any children of my own, and pets that have died cannot come close, yet, I am so sorry for your loss.
Alas, I think, the option of suicide is a permanent solution to a short term problem(s); not all problems are forever or long term, they are often short term and seems to imply or manifest itself as a critical, crucial and life threatening problem. I am not here to belittle anyone, nor am I here to bash suicides, to me, it is a very serious issue and I am in deep humility and respect for life.
I care for life. I am pro life. I believe and trust that being alive is everything, unless or until it is time to return to ashes and dust. I too, have contended with the idea of suicide, and twice, it was intense enough for me to bring a knife to my hands, but the most I could "achieve" was superficial, knife wounds that healed. There, I've said it. Unfortunately or fortunately for me, I was afraid of carrying it out, and I was afraid of deeper, permanent wounds and the actual potential of dying.
That's when I stopped and realized that my fears were not as bad as I thought after all.
But that was then. I was probably more ill equipped as a late teenager, and with parents that didn't really communicate very well to me, when both combined, it was a potentially lethal combination. Yet, I thank God I am alive, and I didn't press in.
Over time, as I pondered about issues of life, of personal development, of progressive living, the meaning of life, I have come to cherish what I have. I cherish the people in my life, I cherish myself. I try to "stop" and take time out to enjoy the moment. To enjoy their company. Because I know and understand that life can and is more fleeting than I can ever imagine.
To me, life is very precious. Being alive is very important. Our problems are never permanent. Our past is never our future. Our potential is vast, and there is always more to life in living, loving and laughing. Of course there are sad and painful events, but I choose to take them as learning points that strengthen me emotionally, spiritually and mentally. Also, I realized that life, when lived experiencing both painful and joyous moments, we then appreciate more of things as they are.
Life truly is good. It is a great time to be alive. My heart goes out to you who may know someone struggling with depression and with suicide. Life will become better - it can only get better.
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