I saw her face again today. Except, the reality check hit when I remembered it couldn’t be her face. She died over 3 years ago.
We weren’t close by any means. We were coworkers who were friends at work, but not outside of it. After I quit, I would always go to find her if I was there shopping. Sometimes, we would just seem to run into each other without even trying. It had been sometime since I had seen her or even stepped foot in that store that we both worked at. One day I was there shopping with my mom (who use to work there also). We had found out, from another old coworker, this friend had committed suicide.
Being suicidal, having suicidal thoughts, and hearing about someone you know who died by suicide, is quite the weird experience.
On the one hand, you have all this sadness. Knowing her and her personality, I wouldn’t have ever thought of her taking her own life. Did she even show signs, I wonder. You feel sadness over the loss. Sadness over what her family and friends are feeling. Sadness for her children. All these questions that cannot ever be answered since she would be the only one to know the answers. Sadness because she had so much more life to give.
On the otherhand, I have been there. I know what it is like to reach that dark point. It is weird to say that I understand. Not that I would ever want someone to kill themselves, myself included. However, I do understand why it happens. The sadness I feel is how I imagine people I know would feel. I wouldn’t want to put them through that, just as I am sure that is not what she wanted either. People often say that suicide is such a selfish act and I understand why they feel that way. However, what they don’t understand is the amount of darkness that consumes a person so much that they get to that point of no longer wanting to exist as they are. I get it. I have been there.
I think about her from time to time. On several occasions I thought I have seen her face knowing full well it could not be hers.
It is weird seeing from both perspectives.