I'm struggling to find the right words today. Celebrities die all the time, as do real, everyday people, and each death is a tragedy for those who knew and loved them. But when we lose someone to suicide, with no forewarning, no explanation, no chance of ever understanding or helping, it really hurts those that are left behind.
Don't get me wrong, I am not one of those who will ever call suicide a selfish way to go. I am a suicide survivor myself. It has been almost ten years since I was in such an awful pit of despair, hatred and blackness, that I took an overdose. I took a three month supply of Lexapro. Three months! I should be dead. No-one believed me when I told them how much I had taken. Not the EMTs, the nurses or the doctors at the hospital I was taken to. Even people I've confided this to since have looked skeptical. I guess they thought it was just an attempt at attention, or that I was exaggerating. When my blood work came back, the doctor realised I was telling the truth. He told me that if I just wanted attention, I did not need to take nearly so much. I told him that I hadn't done it as a cry for help. I had done it because I was done. I saw no way out. I wanted all the pain to stop, and I do not do things by halves!
But somehow, I survived. I came back. I found light again. And laughter. Even love. I am so happy that I failed in my attempt!
Since then, I have had the sadness to know someone who took their own life with a gun. We weren't close friends, but he was someone I admired, and we shared many mutual friends. Seeing the pain and the suffering that he left behind made me even more glad that I had failed in my attempt. But I still can't blame him.
When you are so far down that black, spiraling pit of despair, it is impossible to see a way out. You do not believe that there could be a way out. You don't see that your death will hurt others, because you see yourself as unimportant, bad, a waste of life and resources on this planet. You think that the best thing to do, the kindest thing, would be to rid the world of you. In that moment, you are not thinking any selfish thought, despite what others may believe.
Of course, none of us on the outside, looking in, will understand what is truly going on in someone's heart. How can someone like Anthony Bourdain, who seemed to have it all, kill himself? He was such a phenomenal storyteller. He went to places most people would not dare to go and shone a light on the sufferings of real people, all while embracing local food and culture in a way that made friends of everyone he met. I followed his travels with excitement and enthusiasm, because his shows were so much more than just cookery shows. They took us into normal people's homes, into their lives. He showed us people who, despite living in war zones, still took the time to cook family meals and celebrate food together. He showed us what was important in their lives, and through them, we learned to appreciate the little things more. He broadened all our horizons and our hearts. All with a cynical grin and sardonic attitude. This bad-boy punk chef became an ambassador for all that is good and right in this world. And he will be greatly missed. By his family, his friends, and his fans all over the world.
The world lost one of the good ones that day. Who can possibly fill those big shoes? Rest in peace Anthony. I hope you have peace from your demons now.
"I took a walk through this beautiful world
Felt the cool rain on my shoulders
I took a walk through this beautiful world
I felt the rain getting colder
Sha-la-la-la-la... "
This song was written exclusively for Parts Unknown by Queens Of The Stone Age.
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