This is a child. A beautiful thing, a loving thing.Suicide is an ugly thing, it is the scar that never heals:
“TIME Does Not heal,
It makes a half stitched scar
That can be broken and again you feel,
Grief again as total as in it’s first hour.
Why I wonder does no one understand that very simple fact about suicide survivors? No amount of love from other people can help. No advantage of a caring family can help. No passionate love from any person can help, no matter how strong, no matter how deep, can make it’s way through the well of loneliness.Those who are left behind in the wake of suicide are left alone to deal with what is the anger and the guilt. Trying to understand that which is inexplicable, the survivors who always wish they had not survived, to deal with the loneliness and the despair- to try to comprehend an inexplicable act, an act of betrayal for that is what suicide is more than anything: it is an act of betrayal. Betrayal of those who love and who are left to comprehend the incomprehensible.This is what lies before the survivors a life time of incomprehension. Most of all they are left to to miss a parent whose life was woven into their own from the very beginning.
Suicide is indeed a death like no other and those who are left behind must confront a pain that is like no other. It leaves a hole in the heart that nothing and no one can ever fill.Corrosive pain, abandonment: suicide rips apart families like nothing else.Everyday the survivor wakes up and wonders why. Why did they do this to me? How could they do this to me? The incomprehension is what rips neural networks apart, that shreds them that destroys links and synaptic connections. Suicide shreds brains. Brains are what we are , brains are who we are. Brains are us. Yet brains cannot deal with the volcanic eruption of suicide. They cannot recover from this irrevocable damage .They fracture, they dislocate, they change into shattered glass. Shattered glass is the legacy of suicide, the twisted nerve the ganglion gone wry.