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Making peace with suicide


Prudence V

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A friend committed suicide recently. He wasn’t the first friend I’ve lost that way, and over the decades I’ve been close to many other people who’ve made serious attempts, as well as having survived my own childhood attempts. This particular friend had also made previous attempts, though not in the last decade or so. So suicide is not a stranger.

This morning I remotely attended his memorial service, and was struck again by how loved he was. So many people sharing fun, happy memories of him, reading from books we loved together, and sharing music we’d enjoyed together. It was moving, hilarious, heartbreaking. Warm and generous, like he was. 

What struck me most was how no one questioned why he did it, or took issue with him taking his own life - everyone said they were sad to lose him as a friend, colleague, mentor.. and that they wished him peace. A few expressly mentioned respecting his choice. And I realised I did, too. In the past, I’ve always tried - needed - to understand why someone close took their own life, to make sense of my own choices I suppose. But this time, it felt different - that his reasons were his own, and his choice was valid irrespective of whether my reasoning would deem it so or not. 

I am deeply saddened by his loss, I miss him intensely even though our last interactions were all through social media, but for the first time it feels like something that just is. 

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