Second Chances
On the way back home yesterday with a friend, an uncommon scene caught my attention. There were 5 police cars right in front of our building. We were surprised to see such a big movement on a Saturday evening in a small city.
We wondered what had happened. We made our bets and thought about different possible reasons of why were there so many cars, among them, police cars. People seemed restless. The environment seemed different and a strange feeling of turbulence and unquietness started to take over.
We walked towards the main central station and on my left side, we saw an ambulance. A few meters ahead of us, we could see a stopped train with people being evacuated, some were probably scared, shocked. Others did not understand what had just happened, just like me and my friend. We asked a group of boys what was going on and they said a man jumped on the trail’s track right before the train arrived. He tried to commit suicide and failed.
The first thing that came to my mind was his family. What would his parents think? How would they react? What about his friends? Would all of them feel so powerless and so afraid because of what just happened?
A few hours later, we looked for the accident online in order to find more information about that man. We couldn’t find any. All we found was that due to technical issues no trains were departing or arriving at the main station. Technical issues.
I suddenly felt sick and stopped what I was doing at the moment. My dishes could wait a few more minutes to be washed.
Technical issues.
That was no technical issue, but a man who tried to kill himself by jumping in front of a running train. Why didn’t the news report the truth about what had happened? I’m not talking about exposing the man’s identity nor his motives to commit such an act. However, people must know what had happened at 21 pm on that warm Saturday night.
Why do people avoid talking about suicide as if it was something uncommon and not normal in our society? Maybe if we talked more about it instead of avoiding bringing it up we could prevent some cases like these to happen. We as society musk ask ourselves why suicide has become such a taboo subject among us. Why won’t we talk about it. According to official Data provided by the “Statistischen Bundesamt”, in 2007, Germany experienced 9402 cases of suicide. Should we keep ignoring these numbers ? Should we keep pretending that people who suffer with depression or who present the will to take their own lives are so distant from us?
The fact that suicide is such a taboo in our society makes people who commit it more likely to be labelled because of what happened. I myself knew someone like that. Let’s call him B.
B was one of the greatest people I’ve ever known. When I spent 3 months abroad, he was the first to open up for me and my friends. He was always kind and wanted to know more about Brazil. He invited us for everything and spent his breaks talking to us. His smile was contagious and one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. One could not be sad around him, for B, everything was always good.
We became good friends and later something more.
When I came back home, we used to text a lot, and then Skype for hours. We used to talk about my plans to study abroad and make plans for the future. I visited him twice and it felt like nothing had changed. He was still wearing the same constant smile he wore when I first met him and his laugh still had the same sound. It felt good to have him by my side. He supported me and my decisions, helped me when I was stressed and I trusted him as if we’ve known each other for ages. On New Years, I sent him a message. He was one of the first people I sent a message to and one of the most important ones too. I waited for his reply for 3 days and wrote later that I was mad at him for ignoring me.
He ignored me again.
Even though I felt something strange within me, this feeling disappeared when I travelled with my friends.
After a wild night out, we all went to sleep. However, just three hours later, I couldn’t anymore. I took my phone that was charging right next to my bed and saw a lot of messages from a person I didn’t know at the time. However, I recognised his name.
When I read it, I knew it couldn’t be true. I couldn’t believe it. My world fell apart and I woke up my friends shaking, but the words didn’t come out even though I tried hard. I gave my friend my phone so that she could read what I just read and she gave me a hug. I still couldn’t talk and people who know me, knows how rare this happens.
The only thing I could think of was his smile and how uncommon it was for him was not to smile. I wondered how it felt like and why he didn’t open up. His friend and I talked about it a lot and he told me everything from top to bottom. As it turns out, B was suffering a lot for the past 6 months and he tried treatment. However, he couldn’t take it anymore.
Even though I knew he wasn’t satisfied and 100% happy about the choices he had made, I could never imagine he was that unhappy. It just didn’t show in his smile, his words, laugh nor even in his eyes. That’s the thing about internet.
His sadness could not be felt nor seen by others, just by him and, even though people tried to help him heal, it wasn’t possible. This is the saddest part of it all. In these moments, you are facing a battle with yourself and no matter how many people or how badly they want you to heal, the only person who can help you is yourself. And this is hard.
I wish I knew about his thoughts even though I know it wouldn’t have made any difference. I just wish I knew he was unhappy so that I could maybe try to help or so that I could enjoy more moments with him. Maybe that way I would have given him more value, maybe I wouldn’t be so irritated when he ignored me. I wish his friend didn’t have to buy the flowers or that he didn’t read what I wrote out loud. I wish I’d done it personally and showed B the respect he deserved and deserves.
Even though some say God does not forgive people that take away their own lives, I truly believe that forgiving is not the right word to say. Self-harm and depression, although not often tackled by the media and not often enough discussed about, are singularities that do not need to be forgiven nor understood. Each case is different. This is not a mistake and this is no one’s fault. It just happens. It is a consequence.
I can now say that even though I didn’t want B’s life to turn out this way, I accept the choice he has made even though I cry a little inside when I say it out loud. He still had a lot to live, a family who loved him and people that would do anything to make his smile. I know that because I was one of them. I just wished I had the opportunity to tell him how special he was and everything else that was on my mind. I think about him and his family a lot and hope is that they family stay united, strong and even after all of what happened, people remember him for the wonderful person he was, and not for the way he left.
As for the man from yesterday? I hope he gets the help he needs and learns how to cherish life. I wish his family all the best too, after all, they were all given a second chance. And second chances are rare.