My friend died, she killed herself, and it’s been horrible. It’s made worse by being 6000 miles away from it all and by being told the details on Facebook.
We worked together and she was troubled, she never opened to me directly because I’m twenty years younger and what did I know.
But I wish she had, because I’d have genuinely listened and not used it as a platform to talk about myself, I wouldn’t have encouraged the self medicated wine, I wouldn’t have asked how she was just to hear the latest gossip. I would have tried to help because she was a nice person and deserved a friend. Yet despite meeting her for coffees and going out for meals she never opened up to me.
I wish I’d poked my nose in more, and not been worried about seeming to be interfering. I wish I’d spoken up when I heard worrying snippets of conversations she was having with other members of staff. I wish I’d asked her why she was hungover yet again, and just how much had she drank. I wish I’d shouted at her for repeatedly drink driving. I wish I’d told the ones she had spoken to to try harder to help her.
If anyone you come into contact with is visibly struggling with life, if your coworker is repeatedly coming in stinking of booze, if someone is crying on the bus, if someone has cuts on their wrists, if someone is withdrawing from life, reach out to them. Because I didn’t and now my friend is dead. A mother is dead. A daughter is dead.
And if you’re struggling, if life is really hard for you right now, reach out to someone. Even if they’re younger, even if they don’t have the same issues, even if they’re always laughing. It doesn’t mean they won’t bend over backwards to help you. Because there is nothing romantic about suicide, everything just ends. And even if right now that seems like a good idea, you could not be more wrong.
Flop! 