Recently, my husband found out a friend of his committed suicide. The man wasn’t a friend who came to our house and the two didn’t go hunting or play darts together or work on their cars until well past midnight. But, they talked nearly every day and drank an occasional beer together. I met the man a few times a couple of years ago and though we only exchanged a few pleasantries, I remember his face. His charisma made an impression on me.

When my husband called me at work and told me the news, the man’s smiling face immediately came to mind. I was shocked and saddened and could only offer my husband a few words of support.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

The man’s death was the only thing I thought about the rest of the day.

I know a few people who committed suicide, including my father 20 years ago.

The news about my husband’s friend didn’t trigger a barrage of painful memories and confusing emotions from my father’s death, but I cried inside for someone I barely knew.

I don’t know if the man planned his death for a long time or if it was an impulsive act. Either way, it made me sad to think that he, for some inexplicable reason, must have thought nobody cared. In the instant it took to finalize the act, did he really think he would not be missed? That his passing would go unnoticed? That those who knew him would only shake their heads and say, “What a shame?”

It also bothered me to think that at the very moment he committed suicide, when he was so anguished, I was so comfortable in my own life.

I don’t know what seemed so unbearable to him. If I had known, I might have wondered if it was really worth the worry, but when someone is contemplating suicide, the only person who matters is the one who is feeling the torment and pain.

If I had known he was so precariously balanced between choosing life or death, I would have told him that nothing, absolutely nothing is worth taking his life. I would have told him that although his situation seemed bleak now, things would improve. I would have encouraged him to find one thing to look forward to tomorrow, a week from now or even years from now. 

I would have told him to please endure the suffering just a little bit longer, without acting on impulse, and with the right help, the pain would go away. I would have reminded him that death is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

Suicide is selfish and those left behind are tormented with a lifetime of “if onlys” and “what ifs.” Trust me, I know.

Please look at your friends, your children, your family, your co-workers and your neighbors and realize that while you may be emotionally stable, they may not feel the same way. What may seem an annoyance to you, may be enough to push them to suicide.

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline offers these warning signs for suicide:

•Threatening to hurt or kill oneself or talking about wanting to hurt or kill oneself.

•Looking for ways to kill oneself by seeking access to firearms, available pills, or other means.

•Talking or writing about death, dying, or suicide when these actions are out of the ordinary for the person.

•Feeling hopeless.

•Feeling rage or uncontrolled anger or seeking revenge.

•Acting reckless or engaging in risky activities – seemingly without thinking.

•Feeling trapped – like there’s no way out.

•Increasing alcohol or drug use.

•Withdrawing from friends, family, and society.

•Feeling anxious, agitated, or unable to sleep or sleeping all the time.

•Experiencing dramatic mood changes.

•Seeing no reason for living or having no sense of purpose in life.

If you or someone you know is showing these signs, please call the Maine Suicide and Crisis Hotline at 1 (888) 568-1112 or the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1 (800) 273-TALK (8255).

The services are free, confidential and staffed by trained counselors. They are available 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Nobody ever said life was fair or easy, but there is always someone who cares – including me. 

– Renee Worthing