Of Suicide and Apologies

We've been horrible, horrible people. I know. We haven't posted in ages, and I haven't posted something original in even longer. That's more from a lack of things to say than from being busy, honestly, though we've been that, too. I noticed that out of the 50-odd posts I have, I only like about a handful-the ones that came to be spontaneously and not out of this feeling that I needed to blog, ones like this, this, this and maybe this. So I figured I'd rather just not write than write crap.
Anyway, we'll try to be more regular now, now that we're relatively freer.


Now that we've got the apologies are out of the way, let's get down to business. Suicide.
So as I said, we've been pretty busy lately, working on something quite important for us. The importance of the task is relevant and cannot be overstated. National security, life and death, etc, etc, don't even begin to cover it.
This is a paraphrased version of a conversation I had at the time (It was funnier when it happened):

Me: I really hope this works out. If it doesn't, I'm telling you, I think I'll just kill myself. *stretches her back, which aches after a long day of laptop-staring, at that moment* *stares at the ceiling* *laughs at the irony of the situation* Ohmygod, guess what? I just looked up, and what do I see? A hook. A very convenient looking, artfully placed hook. Which I've never seen before, in the million times I've looked at the ceiling since I moved here. Hahaha, maybe it's a sign! Now all I need is to find a rope and learn how to tie that stupid knot. =P"
Friend: *laughs along* *after a moment* Wait, you're not serious are you?

No, I wasn't serious. Of course I wasn't serious. No thing, no matter how important it is, should be enough to make you kill yourself. Make you want to kill yourself, sure. But to actually do it? That's a whole new story. And it's a sad state of affairs in the world if, when you threaten to do that, people actually feel the need to ask you whether you're serious. I can't even blame them, I do the same, because so many people have done it in the past that you just can't be sure anymore.
 I don't pity the people who commit suicide. They might have had crappy lives. They might have felt that they had nobody to help them, nobody to love them, nobody to care. But they had their choice. And they chose. It's the people left behind that I really pity. The mothers, the fathers, the friends, the secret crush-harbor-ers and likers who could never confess their feelings to you. Who never got the chance to. They, they're the ones who'll kill themselves everyday now, the ones who had no choice.
Don't get me wrong. People who commit suicide may have had their reasons. I might have done the same in their position. But really, there are suicide help websites and numbers. Call one of them, if you think you have no one to love you, if you think facing the unknown would really be better than roughing it out on Earth, if you can't think of anything better to do, despite the fact that there are always penguins waiting to welcome you in Antarctica. Go hug your mom. Don't post it on some godforsaken blog and expect God to land you a savior in your comments section, or on facebook, two minutes before you do it. Don't expect people to read your mind.  And don't do things that'll fill them with guilt when you're gone.
Because that, that's just selfish.

UPDATE: For no particular reason apart from maturity and experience, I am now more sympathetic to the plight of suicide-committers. Contemplating suicide when you're happy and when you're irrational and alone are two very different things. However, I do feel the same amount of pity for those left behind, those who didn't have the chance to save their loved one.

~Sam