Last night as I laid my head down on my pillow, my mind was still swirling with thoughts of the day. Swirl, swirl, swirl until the thoughts all melded together. I tried to sort them out and eventually the thought "I'm tired. I really, really tired" flitted its way out of the mix of all the other thoughts. As I focused on that I gained a moment of understanding for something that often is hard to understand--suicide.
When someone commits suicide it is a natural for those left behind to try and understand. We look for signs that we might have missed. What could we have done to prevent this final choice? Were they depressed? Lonely? Bullied? Sad? But often we do not ask "Were they tired? Tired of working in a dead-end job? Tired of trying to help people who don't necessarily want to be helped? Tired of fighting the pain? Tired of trying to put on a happy face every day? Tired of pulling themselves up by their bootstraps? Tired of running into the same brick wall? Tired of dealing with whatever makes them tired?" I'm sure the list could go on and on.
Sure the person can ask for help, try to delegate, take a break, seek resources. But eventually the offers of help cease to come. Resources dry up. Taking a break usually has to come to an end and the person has to return to normal life. Returning to normal life often means resuming the same responsibilities, fighting the same fights, dealing with the same people, hitting that same brick wall that caused them to be so tired in the first place.
So last night, with my thoughts still swirling, and feeling exhausted, I understood how someone might be led to choose one final sleep. A sleep that guarantees that there would be no more fighting, no more trying to put on a happy face, no more running into a brick wall, no more pulling themselves up by the bootstraps.
I don't have a specific take home message from last night's experience. I simply wanted to share my thoughts.
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