Yesterday morning I was notified that a boy from my town died via suicide in our local high school.
His parents contacted authorities that he had left their home flustered and they were concerned for his safety. They thought he may have gone to the local high school. He was found there…dead.
November 3rd will forever be engrained in the minds of his parents who will replay that morning a million times, his friends, the people who wish they had taken the opportunities to be his friend, his teachers who wish they would have seen the signs and acted on them, the officers who found yet another body of a boy just starting out in life, never to see another day.
Suicide is such a touchy subject, and yet it needs to be talked about! I don’t have enough appendages to count the amount of people I have known who have died through suicide, their names and faces forever engrained on my heart.
I have a very strong stance on loving whoever is put into my life, because I hold the heartache and scars of not doing that and wishing I had… but it is too late.
After a suicide many people talk about suicide prevention, about how we need to befriend people, how we need to be kind. Yes, death brings to light the reality of how we place value on people based on our thoughts of them, death brings out the dirt.
But at that point, it’s too late! It’s too late to change anything. We can’t alter the past.
This suicide will shake up some for a day, some for a few weeks or months, but few will remember this for a lifetime… and yet if we truly valued all people as irreplaceable, shouldn’t everyone remember this man for a lifetime? Shouldn’t we all live as if the world is missing a piece, a piece that never even got a chance to make it’s mark?
Suicide is symptom of so much heartache and multiple mental illnesses.
I hope we will all love more. Please smile at the lonely person in the corner as well as at the life of the party that’s being outgoing to cover up pain.
I hope we will all have and be the kind of friends that show others that they have a place they belong, that they would be missed, and that they are irreplaceable.
To the boy who never really got the chance to live, I barely know you, but I want you to know that you are loved and missed… and I’m sorry I didn’t say that sooner.