SUICIDE Project:
Supported and Unified Inside a Compassionate Inclusive and Devoted Ecosystem
Paper balls lay crumpled on the floor. Notes, phrases, unfinished sentences, empty words etched on a stark white canvas seem trivial when discussing a subject that has no filter, lacks rules, hates to be confronted, and imprisons one behind locked doors in an unfathomable darkness.
I remember responding to an emergency call for service on a hot Fresno day. My partner, his trainee and I arrived on scene, heard screams from inside the house and forced the garage door open. I watched a heavy set man dangling from the rafters. His last breath trying to escape his body. As I held his lower body up trying to relieve the pressure on his neck, praying that he didn’t die, I knew exactly what he was thinking while his wife and daughter sat helplessly in the corner sobbing.
Broken relationships dripped from the leaky internal faucet. They were a constant reminder of who I am not and would never be. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t connect with people and yet I wanted to tell everyone what I was feeling but I knew no-one would understand. In these moments, my service gun became a familiar companion. It had a language all its own. What is your method? A noose, prescription pills; our imaginations seek solace in the cold stillness as if they provide a calm from the raging storm. Truth be told; this is a lie, a digression from our authentic self and there is a different way.
If you’re out there, I hear you. My tears are your tears, your pain is my pain. I understand how much it hurts to know there is an indescribable black hole lying inside you alive and screaming for attention. It started from an unknown place or possibly an event that forever altered our perception of the world and grew with an insatiable appetite; devouring any emotion, clinging to every feeling, painting a mask hiding behind a fake smile-bright eyes-rosy cheeks, hollow laugh or devoted work ethic.
Where do you hide? Are you in your room with your headphones pinned deep in your ear canals drowning out the world, drinking beer or straight whiskey until the sweet numbness finally takes over, at work in the early morning hours and the last to leave or crying uncontrollably when you’re alone. Maybe you can’t relate and you’ve found your own personal hell. I tried all these in an attempt to find a way out. Finally, when the pseudo-coping mechanisms couldn’t stop the dam from breaking; I almost gave up. I would sit in the bathroom at work looking down the barrel, finger on the trigger, trying to understand how I came to this place. Silence enveloped me and became my lone companion behind a locked door contemplating what it would be like to be rid of the anxiety and the constant icy grip that awakened me in the early morning hours.
Listen closely. I am not going to preach to you or yell. If you don’t believe anything else you have read thus far-trust these words. I love you and therefore, you are loved unconditionally. There are people searching for you. Let them in even if it’s just for a moment. You and I, we have an inner strength that is begging to be shared with our friends, family and the world. It comes from a razor sharp authentic self born from a unique set of circumstances that is groaning to be set free from the self-imposed prison. You can do this. This is my love letter to you. Break free and live a life without boundaries.
Love,
Giuseppe