if i told you a secret you wont tell a soul. will you hold it and keep it alive?

To a very brave friend:
I read something yesterday that made my heart sink.
And I thought this would be appropriate to share with its author.
And all of you.

Here is an excerpt from what I've been scribbling.
It's part of a memoir.
I think it's the beginning.
As good a place to start as any, I suppose.
::The Absence of Me::

"I don’t know what it’s like to want to die. But I do know what it feels like not to care if I go on living. There is a difference, I think. Between the two feelings. Between the anger and sadness of actively trying to kill yourself and the empty hopelessness of giving up. The apathy. That hollow invisible feeling. Every breath hurts. The burn of tears in my eyes. If I breathe to deep they will come. I’m alive, but not really. I might have tried to kill myself if I could have mustered up the courage or the energy. I was weak and lonely and so sad. If I had been stronger I might have done it. I might have ended all that pain.

Sometimes I thank God for weakness.

There is a stretch of road that I used to drive daily on my way to West Chester University. I always imagined driving my car head on into this one particular telephone pole. That would be it. Fifty-five miles per hour in a Ford Tempo. I think that would have been enough impact to get the job done. I would stare at the yellow lines in the road. My foot would press down on the accelerator as I approached the target. I would imagine it. The car crossing over the lines and veering into the pole. I pictured the impact. The broken glass. The splintered wood. But I couldn’t picture myself. I couldn’t see the lifeless body that I would leave behind. I couldn’t picture her pressed against the steering wheel, eyes glazed, bleeding. There would be too many questions. Too many people involved. What if I hit someone else? Who would find me? It would be an awful mess to clean up. And it would mean totaling my grandmother’s car. And she had been so generous to let me use it everyday to get to school. I couldn’t repay her by leaving her stranded. That was enough to keep all four ties on the road.

The stupidest ideas have saved my life."


I know now that taking your own life is not courageous. It's selfish.
Courage is the fight that cleaves you to hope. Even if it's just a fraction of hope. Just for a second. Sometimes it may mean the difference betweenparking your car in the driveway...or wrapping it around a telephone pole.