death by silence

I’ve lost count how many times I’ve walked alongside someone on the edge of suicide. Clients. Friends. I talked about it last night. I talked about it this morning.

In Massachusetts, death by suicide occurs at a rate 4.6x higher than that of homicide. It is the second leading cause of death among the ages of 15 and 24 years though the age group between 45 and 54 actually commit the most suicides. Interestingly enough, MA has the 48th lowest suicide rate. Wyoming, by far, has the highest.

Some call suicide a selfish act and, while there may be some truth in that, it is not the whole truth. What is also true is that the suffering of a suicidal person is so abominable and the self-hatred so real that dying is literally the only option.

Suicide doesn’t discriminate. It is a demon of epic proportions that eclipses race, gender and religion. It latches on to any trauma, any negative event or self-belief and it abides in secrecy. Perhaps this is especially true among religious circles, namely the Christian faith, where for hundreds of years (perhaps even now) suicide was considered an unforgiveable sin. (It’s not, btw but that’s another blog post).

If the devil can’t win our soul he will try his damnedest to steal our life. He will exploit tiny truths and twist them into vicious lies about identity and worth. This is why he becomes so easy to believe.

If hearing this makes us uncomfortable – good. It should. The devil exists. We must look no farther than our own community to see (but that is also another blog post).

I believe part of the call on my life is not just to raise awareness of hurts such as suicide, but to plead for us to sit with those hurts. Walking campaigns and legislation are good and necessary. We must recognize the prevalence of suicide. We must see a need for action. We also must bear the pain of it.

We begin to heal when we listen. We begin to heal when we carry burdens together.

Someone you know believes they were an accident. Someone you know feels unloveable. Someone you know hates themselves so much that they hurt themselves on purpose or self-sabotage their relationships, work or schooling. If you cannot see it you are not looking hard enough.

I am asking you to look harder.

Please – our human brothers and sisters are dying under the weight of their secrets and their shame. It is undeserved. Ask your loved ones. Cry with them. Hold their heart as you do their hands. Resist the urge to fix and to do and invite the action of being. Just be.

Even physical wounds require time out of a bandage to breathe. Breathe with me.