Burden in My Hand

I told a friend this morning that, in light of Chris Cornell’s death, I’m in mourning and will be listening to Soundgarden for the remainder of the day. She said that she has no sympathy. She said boohoo, he wasn’t happy with his millions, and went on a rant that I mostly tuned out.

All day, ever since that brief interaction, I’ve been thinking about what makes someone want to kill themself and how the rest of the world responds to those thoughts and actions.

I have felt depressed before but never to the point that I wanted to kill myself. I’ve felt heartache, loss, lack of direction, lack of control, and disappointment in myself, and how drugs can make it better. I’ve known failure, selfishness, bitterness, laziness, anger, isolation, what it means to be different, and how a fake smile masks everything.

Hasn’t everyone felt the majority of that?

Some handle it better than others. Some people can’t even get out of bed today. 

Are we so disconnected from each other that we can’t recognize when people around us are suffering? That when their own thoughts and feelings get to be too much, and they take their own lives, our first response is to criticize them?

Nothing can buy happiness. Not money, not power, not fame, not respect, not friends, not family, not love. Sometimes, not even medication and therapy. 

Instead of talking shit about people who kill themselves, let’s recognize that people are effed up. We’re all dealing with our own problems, in our own way, each with our own unique perspective and emotions. Everyone struggles, and some are losing the fight.

A little empathy goes a long way.

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