Yesterday was not the first time that someone I dearly love has tried to take their own life. Unfortunately I have had a friend go through with it before… a best friend. A friend I thought knew I was there for him no matter what. I know mental health has nothing to do with how much I care about someone, but I wish it did.
I received quite a few messages from friends telling me that they had been in that place themselves. I was shocked by the people who admitted it to me. Most of them seemed to me, to be people who have their lives together. Why would they feel the need to end it?
I've been pondering on this and have found a place in my heart where I can empathize. I have never been in that place where ending my life ever felt like an option, nor has it ever been something I desired. I have had hard times. Heart breaking times. Every time in my darkest hours my deepest desire is to go home. That used to be an option for me. I’d hop in my car and in a few hours I was home. When I am home with mom and dad everything is ok. It didn't matter what I was going through it was all ok if I was with them.
That isn't an option anymore. Mom is gone, for now, and so is home. I can go visit my dad if I want, I am always welcome there but I am a guest. I no longer have access to the healing powers of home. When things get bad now my heart turns to the only other home I've known. The one my mind does not remember but my heart does, my heavenly home. I understand the appeal of the other side. Not because life isn't worth facing, or because I want to feel numb, but simply because I want to be home where everything is ok, where happiness fills every part of my soul, where you are loved unconditionally. I miss that. I crave that.
I think we have all felt a yearning for home that is beyond anything in this life. In that emotion I can sympathize.