the end
A guy I knew in high school just committed suicide. We weren't close, really, but he was more than an acquaintance. We went on a few mission trips together, which always forges a special bond, like going to camp with someone. I always liked him; he made me laugh and was mysteriously quiet at times. He liked zombies, aviator sunglasses, and gangsta rap. He tried out for cheer leading as a joke, made the team, and ended up loving it. He also enjoyed talking about unicorns. He was one of those kids that did things because his mom made him and refused to admit when he actually enjoyed himself because of it.
After we went to the National Holocaust Museum on our DC mission trip, he didn't say a word. When it was his turn to talk about his thoughts about it, all he said was, "Pass." That made me sad. I knew he was thinking things--you could see the wheels turning--and he couldn't let them out for whatever reason. I wondered why. I wanted to hear his reaction. Earlier in the trip we had played that game where the leader reads off a statement and you stand on one side of the room if you agree, the opposite side if you disagree, and the middle if you just don't know what to think. Every statement was a political or social stance, like "Abortion should be kept legal" or "Prayer should not be allowed in schools." Again he refused to participate and sat in the middle the entire time. When the leader asked him why he was there, he shrugged and said because he didn't want to piss anyone off.
When people, especially young people, commit suicide, it really unnerves me. It freaks me out more than most kinds of death--certainly more than deaths due to illness. It always leaves me asking why, knowing I'll never really be able to understand. It makes me wonder what could have been done to prevent it, how someone could have seen it coming and done something. But I think it is almost impossible for people who have never been suicidal to understand suicidal ones. I have never been there, and I certainly don't understand.
Young people dying makes me so sad. I have so little hope in our generation sometimes, and it gives me even less hope when our generation takes it's own life or kills others. But at the same time, those deaths move me so much, and make me so angry at so many things, that I feel even more driven to try and do something about it.
I really hope I get home in time to go to his memorial service.
After we went to the National Holocaust Museum on our DC mission trip, he didn't say a word. When it was his turn to talk about his thoughts about it, all he said was, "Pass." That made me sad. I knew he was thinking things--you could see the wheels turning--and he couldn't let them out for whatever reason. I wondered why. I wanted to hear his reaction. Earlier in the trip we had played that game where the leader reads off a statement and you stand on one side of the room if you agree, the opposite side if you disagree, and the middle if you just don't know what to think. Every statement was a political or social stance, like "Abortion should be kept legal" or "Prayer should not be allowed in schools." Again he refused to participate and sat in the middle the entire time. When the leader asked him why he was there, he shrugged and said because he didn't want to piss anyone off.
When people, especially young people, commit suicide, it really unnerves me. It freaks me out more than most kinds of death--certainly more than deaths due to illness. It always leaves me asking why, knowing I'll never really be able to understand. It makes me wonder what could have been done to prevent it, how someone could have seen it coming and done something. But I think it is almost impossible for people who have never been suicidal to understand suicidal ones. I have never been there, and I certainly don't understand.
Young people dying makes me so sad. I have so little hope in our generation sometimes, and it gives me even less hope when our generation takes it's own life or kills others. But at the same time, those deaths move me so much, and make me so angry at so many things, that I feel even more driven to try and do something about it.
I really hope I get home in time to go to his memorial service.