How does one find words to explain what seems to be so inexplicable to all but those who know first hand?

I have lost more than one friend to a such a death in my time. One such friend was 24 when he died. His funeral was packed with so many people that it was ‘standing room only’ in the crematorium. Some people had to stand outside during the service; there were that many people in attendance.

How could this one young man, with so many people who cared, feel unable to turn to even one of us before he died? He had turned to me several years prior to his death, when I spent quite some time talking him down from the edge one night.  In the end, I guess it bought him a few more years of Hell;  before he took matters into his own hands and fashioned the noose that he hung himself with.

“Oh, that’s awful, Mistress Savannah”.  “Oh, how tragic, Mistress Savannah”. “Oh, he was weak”. “Was he an Emo or something?” (No, he was not.  He was a Punk if you must know) “How truly selfish”, “What a moron”, “Attention seeking didn’t work out the way he planned then, did it?  Ha Ha Ha!”.


People wonder why those who choose to die in this way don’t say anything?  With comments like the above, and variations thereof, is it any real wonder that those who suicide say nothing?

But it is not quite so simple.  One of those statements is actually quite accurate in its own way.  Suicide is selfish.  But not in the way that you may think.  It is SELF-ish.  In the end it is the absence of anything but ‘self’ and the objective decision to erase the self.

How could someone with over 500 friends and family in attendance at his funeral feel so truly alone?

Because the world shrinks when suicide is near, until the true meaning of the word ‘alone’ is really understood.  Oh there is pain; there is soul-wrenching agony.  Friends and family are thought of.  They are thought of at length, and loved until the pain sweeps them away, and the rationalisations begin; that they will be fine, that they will be better off without the person who wants to die.  Such thoughts do not stem from any self-pitying angst.  Oh no.  When it gets to that point such thoughts are quite cold and rational; ‘matter of fact’, if you will.  Friends and family are still loved, though; as hard as that may seem to understand.

Once the body starts to shiver, and the teeth chatter as if it is cold, the last of the sobs wrack the body, before it descends into shock. And then, it is all swept away.  Nothing but self and the decision exists.  There is no real ‘thought’.  Not in the way that we are used to thinking.  And there is no more pain;  just utter calm, the decision, and what it feels like to be alone.

Many people feel lonely.  It is not the same. Only those on the edge of death know what being alone really means.

I know how Robert felt.  I know why he could not reach out to even one of us at the time.  I have never attempted suicide.  I have always maintained that there will be no attempts.  No.  In my case, it would simply be done, with no coming back.

It was where I was at when a song saved my life.  I was merely waiting for the darkness.  The darkness was required for my plan to succeed. No one knew at all.  No one had guessed.  I had made sure of that.  The radio was on although I can’t say I heard it.  But a song started playing.  I had heard it before, but I had never paid it much mind.  To this day I do not know how I heard it, but I did.  And, when I say I heard it, I mean that in the deepest possible way.  As I listened to that song something snapped inside.  I listened, I heard, and Iunderstood.

I am quite sure that I died in those moments; but not in the way I had planned.  The old me died there and then and, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, a new me was born.

I am not the same me as I was before that song.  I will never be the same again.

But I am alive, and I don’t merely exist.  No.  I really live now.  But I live  on my terms.  I am in control of this wheel. I get to choose.  I can decide. And I am no longer suicidal, just so you know.

The next time you think of shitting on strangers from a great height, just remember that there may come a time one day when a stranger saves your life.  The strangers who saved mine are almost as scorned and misunderstood as I am.  The band who wrote the song I heard? “My Chemical Romance“.  The song that saved my life? ‘Welcome to the Black Parade‘ If you see this band, please thank them for me?  I intend to do it in person one day, but one never knows.

Your scorn means nothing to me.  Your lack of understanding even less. I am strong, and amazing. There is no one else on the planet like me! I am awesome and kick-ass, and I am alone.  I will always be alone.

So are you.

You just don’t know it, yet.



Filed under Observations on Life and the Universe as I See it.

5 responses to “Suicide.

  1. I lost both my parents to suicide when I was 15. Due to pain and suffering in his life my husband has attempted suicide also. I know very much of what you speak. Continue to be you!

    • S.

      Thank you for your comments here. They mean a lot. I know you understand and, in turn, please know that I understand your situation too? Nothing will change what happened. It never does, but if my own blog entry can help even one person to understand? Well then, I think I will have done a good thing.

      Mistress Savannah.

  2. Yes, you will have. Often times people just do not think. I’ve just been having a debate on Facebook about the question of Cultural Intelligence. People want other to be like “us” – but only we are like us, if you see what I mean. I think the principles of Cultural Intelligence can also apply here – people are not adequately mindful of the impacts of suicide – often years after the event. It is 40 years since I lost my parents, yet it was this year that my fears bubbled to the surface.

    • S.

      I was over at your blog right now, reading about your husband. I am truly shocked at what I have read so far, and I have not even finished reading. I agree with your perspective. People aren’t mindful of the impacts of suicide, including those who go on to actually take their own lives. It is an absence of thought, and absence of intelligence. Of course, that does not mean it is stupid, just that it is thought stripped back so far that it becomes a skeleton; with the flesh and skin that makes up one’s life removed entirely.

      In some ways, I also liken this to an analogy that involves a burning skyscraper. Sometimes, the flames from that building are so unbearably hot that it forces a person who would not do so otherwise to jump from the window. There is a good chance that they will not survive, but in those moments, the thought of escaping the unbearable is all there is! In the end, it becomes closer to instinct turned inwards than anything else. Ok. Back to reading your blog! Once again, thank you.

  3. Vampyredemon

    Loss always hurts and when such individuals decide they can no longer take the pain or emptiness, it is a great tragedy indeed. I have lost several dearly loved people in my life…one being my true love and the other, my best friend. Both were in severe physical pain – one suffered debilitating physical pain that was leaving her crippled and with operation after operation, she was done with it. She never said anything until the very last minute, and I had to explain to her daughter why and how it was done….the autopsy report proved me right unfortunately. It is hard to accept but I do understand.

    It is never easy losing someone who takes their own life…yet one thing many do not understand is that it is their own choice to do so as they choose. It isn’t an attention seeking method because if that is the case, such people would still be alive. Those who are truly done, do not say a word to others…It is never easy to lose someone in such a way…yet they do not think about what happens after nor how many do care….

    I am sorry for your loss *hugs* You know where to find me if you need me Sweets!

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