The other day, I was singing a song at karaoke that had the word suicide in it pretty prominently. I was there with a friend of mine and Ian’s, and he said he was surprised I’d sing that song. It made me ponder, because the song really didn’t bug me at all.
Maybe I’m weird, but the word – the concept, even – doesn’t bug me. I think maybe because I WANT it to become a topic that isn’t taboo… I WANT people to talk about it. I want society to change enough that someone can say to a friend that they’ve pondered doing that, and the friend will be able to react in a manner that helps, not in a way that makes the ponderer never want to speak up again.
The word is just a word. It’s a word that means an action that I really want to be able to get rid of… and maybe the only way to get rid of it is to shine a light on it, figure out why it exists, and fix it.
I don’t feel like I’m making sense today. Truth be told, I’ve been having trouble coming up with things to write here lately, mostly because I’m really trying to not dwell on it. But I don’t think it’s useful to just sweep it under the rug. In fact, that’s the opposite of what I want to do here.
I want to get all this out in the open. I want to make it so that people don’t feel terribly uncomfortable talking about Ian, or his death, or suicide in general… I don’t want them to cringe at the word. I worry, though, that it IS a painful word for other people… that others are in a different place in their journey, or on a different path entirely, and hearing it, talking about it, is painful, unhealthy, etc… so I don’t bring it up. I hesitate to bring him up. It’s hard to tell when I do, whether any cringing, wincing, or discomfort are due to how people think I’m feeling, or how they’re feeling themselves.
Of course I still miss him. Of course it’s terribly painful still. Of course I wish that this focus never came into my life. But it’s here, and I find that despite the pain, it’s helpful for me to not shy away from the facts, from the topic.
Know what does bug me? Seeing people suck the helium out of balloons so they can get the stupid high voice. Of all the things relating to suicide, death, etc… that makes me want to run away. I guess there’s always something.
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