Yesterday, I heard that Kate Spade committed suicide at 55 years old. She’s not the first story of suicide I’ve encountered, nor will it be the last.
When I feel really low and sad, something inside comes and comforts me. I’ve always felt taken care of, even as a young child. A presence, or Jesus, or the trees . . . my lowest points have brought the deepest realizations and reassurances.
So this suicide thing—being so sad and hopeless and lost that you think dying is better—seems so foreign to me. Of course I’ve been sad and depressed and angry, but that is a whole new level.
I wonder what I could do or say to help someone with that, because it just sounds so horrible. It’s giving up on life. I don’t think anything can be so horrible as that.
Not all the time, but there have been times when I’ve just been walking and have felt that life itself, Life with a capital “L”, is in itself worthwhile and special. You don’t need to do anything or be anything. The fact that you are alive makes you special and important. Simply living is a worthwhile goal. No one and nothing can take that away from you. Just eat, sleep, and poop. It’s ok.
Life will end on its own; it has its own timing. At the same time, our life force will carry on I believe. So just let it do its thing. We are all a part of Life, so be alive while you’re alive and accept it when it’s time to move on.
This acceptance is very different from ending this current iteration of life because you’ve given up or because you believe you’re worthless. The Catholic Church, which I grew up in, says that suicide is a sin, and I can see why. It’s really turning your back on God, on Life, and saying I don’t believe in you or trust you. You are saying that you, as a part of Life and God, are not worth it. That God is not worth it.
It’s similar to when we put ourselves down, although to a lesser degree. When we do that, we are saying that we believe in the thoughts and emotions we have more than our True Selves, in God, in Tao, in Presence, in whatever you want to call it. It’s saying that the momentary passing of negative thoughts and emotions, no matter how strong or ongoing, are what is real and important. But that is an illusion.
How horrible the long-term depression people suffer from must be that they can never see the light just beyond the veil of darkness. Even if you can’t feel it, it’s there . . . always there . . . no matter what. No one and nothing else is more important. Absolutely nothing.