Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my friend who – surprise surprise – killed himself. It’s been over 3 years since he left. I was so crushed and felt SO guilty for about a… month. Yeah, it took me only like 30 days to get over the fact that somebody important to me died and that I might have actually pushed that important somebody a little towards the edge. Guess I’m one cold-hearted motherfokker. But despite not really giving a single disco dancing piece of poo about this once-so-tragic-but-not-anymore occurrence, I can safely say that I will never forget this little drama boy.
But hey, that’s not the point I’m (not) trying to make. Yep, I have no idea where I’m going with this petty chit-chat.
ANYWAY, MEMORIES, YES. I remember our suicide related conversations and I’m fairly amused with my then lack of understanding for what he was saying. I simply wasn’t able to imagine what it meant not to have any fokking dreams, future plans, desires. And that mental – allegedly worse than any physical -pain he kept mentioning. “WTF DUDE, IT ISN’T POSSIBLE TO FEEL THIS WAY, DON’T U BULLSHIT ME LIKE THAT”. No wonder it was all so incomprehensible for me back then, I was so ambitious, had plenty of plans, ideas, completly different attitude to life. Ah yes, and those were the days when god was still a thing.
And now here I am, 3+ years later, no dreams, no ambitions, no god, trying to overcome the temptation to jump of the window, yay. At least I can understand him now, guess that’s the sort of support he seeks while not existing carelessly.
Having processed these thoughts I’m glad my best friends don’t understand what I’m trying to communicate them, though it would be nice to receive some kind of response for change besides being called an idiot. Well, it seems so that we’re all just a bunch of egoistic pricks, every single one of us, suicidal or not. And this looks like a good stopping point to me.
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One thing I’ve noticed in our culture is this reluctance to discuss and speak honestly about feelings-whatever they are. “Real men” don’t talk about why they are upset-is the assumption. We have to pretend that nothing bothers us, if we’re in pain we’re just supposed to ‘get over it.’ It’s this ridiculous kind of machismo that some people live by and force others to as well.
Along with the diminishing and trivializing of serious personal issues. I can sense that you feel guilty over your friend’s death. Perhaps it might’ve played a role but it would’ve been minor-because he was obviously unhappy with his life in general. So you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. You should be willing to confront your emotions-perhaps go to his grave apologize to him if you feel it’d help you.
And if you’re feeling suicidal-that is not a failing in you as a man or a person. It doesn’t make you a loser or any less than anyone else if you feel this way. Considering you haven’t done much with your life since your friend passed away 3 years ago-maybe it affected you more than you realize. I’d recommend seeing a therapist.
I lost someone close to me a few year ago-the first year was rough but I was ok after. I remember both the good and bad times-and it was when I humanized him, rather than idealized him, then I was able to get over his death.
I feel like it wouldn’t even take 30 days for people to get over my death. A couple years later, I wouldn’t even be remembered, let alone a couple months. People forget about me while I’m living. There is no reason they’d remember me when I’m dead.
Goes to show we judge shit until we feel it ourselves. Be comforted here. We all feel this in varying degrees.
I used to judge suicidal people before I was suicidal as well. Why would anyone want to kill themselves? Life looks like so much fun!!!! There’s a whole world to explore!!!! Etc…
Me too. When I was younger I just couldn’t imagine anything in life being so bad, I wanted to die.
I remember it so clearly now: I was in my kitchen looking through junk mail when I lost it and decided I just couldn’t handle it. Fucking junk mail set me off but it must have been brewing for years. That was 8 years ago and each and every day has been pure hell since.
30 days? I could only hope that one person in this world would miss me for even a fraction of that time. But hearing that you’ve lost all hope and motivation tells me you’re heading in the same direction as the rest of us and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. I hope that somewhere along the way, you find yourself again. You deserve to be happy. We all do.