Not to gush, but going through that elegant elegiac essay felt like reading an elegy written exclusively for me. Haha. And, if that’s for me, then, really, I still got six more years to spend/waste meaningfully in the blackhole. But then again, no. “The privacy of a depressed person is not a dignity; it is a prison.” Ha, tell me all about it. By the way, I got Andrew Solomon’s book, “Noonday Demon”.
I shared this w my friends on the 22nd, and asked them to write something as beautiful when I die; I got these quotes back–
–”…and it’s hard to be friends with someone who will never be sad with you.”
–?”And I said yes with the same feeling with which, later on, I would deal with love and adventure and travel and life, that feeling of looking both ways, deciding it was dangerous, and leaping anyway.”
and the winner,
–I don’t think I’m up to writing something as deep and dark as that one.
beautiful. thanks for sharing. a friend took her own life, and this was exactly how i felt, that a suicide leaves many guilty people behind, a “failure of a thousand chances to help, of everyone’s capacity to save the person who has died.”