Life Can Get Too Much
Oftentimes it all just gets too much.
Life I mean.
It can cripple you.
Swallow you whole and leave you hollow.
“What good is an empty vessel”, you ask, “surely I’d be better off dead”.
The extremities of life cannot be escaped and to our demise nothing could ever prepare us for them. There’s no textbook way to this life and sadly enough there is no easy way out.
For the longest time, I believed that there was no act more selfish than a person taking their own life. You could try in any way to convince me otherwise but I just wasn’t hearing it. I was so naive to think that nothing could ever drive someone to the point where they would want to take their own life, until I had the front row tickets to a suicide show.
I was fourteen when it happened. I was only fourteen when I walked into a room that reeked of hospital corridors. I saw her soulless, resting against her headboard with her head bent slightly over her shoulders, after her neck muscles had given up. She was weak. The kind of weak that sends shivers down your spine in the most unfathomable ways.
I remember my mother shouting my name as she stood before the doorway. I could hear the tremble in her voice. It sounded like death. It sounded like a fear you couldn’t shake.By the time I arrived at the bedroom door, watching on as my mother, in a panic tried to make sense of the scene, I already knew what it was.
I knew it because the first thing I saw when I walked in that room wasn’t a limp body. The first thing I saw when I walked into that room was a note. I noticed her terrible handwriting in one of my mother’s bright red marking pens, looked at the bedside table and saw empty pill packs and containers, and I just knew.
At fourteen I had to help my mother carry the dead weight of a person whom I’d never imagined, even on their worst day, to be that weak.
I learned that day and the many days after. I learned that being alive can ache so much that one could resolve to taking their life away. I learned that pain is relative. I learned.
Still, it hurts. It hurts when you hear that someone took their life. It hurts to think that they were no longer willing to fight it. It hurts to know that there is nothing they thought was worth living for. It hurts.
In my story the “her” survived and continues to live with the realities of life.
Unfortunately others don’t survive and we’re forced to live with unresolved questions. I pray that Jabu “Gunman Bazooka” Khubekha, former Yizo Yizo and Zone 14 actor, finds comfort and eternal rest.
May his soul rest in peace.