You may be seeking some words of wisdom here, but the truth is that there just aren’t any. No words to alleviate, no phrases to soothe. Your best course of action is acceptance; cope with this head-on and force yourself to understand the consequences of your loss. Take a moment and fucking think about it. Understand that you will never again have a physical interaction with this person you loved, liked, or loathed. Harsh reality is the only reality there is and avoidance only begets bitter mourning.
Over the weekend, I lost another friend. This means a life of fewer inside jokes, fewer understandings between myself and another human, fewer rounds of gay-chicken and far less man hands groping my crotch. This is something I’ve experienced before (both the loss and the action of another man grabbing my crotch). The bleak surroundings of emotional distress and that jaded emptiness are all too familiar. Welcome to another death; another life devoured and swallowed by the great nothing.
As a staunch atheist, I don’t have some kind of false knowledge that my friend is now in a better place. I don’t feel his presence watching over me. I don’t have any inclination that he is now in better hands or in the care of his loving, omnipotent creator. The only knowledge I carry with me is that I no longer have the opportunity or privilege of being in the same realm of existence as this former life.
In specific regards to suicides, there are always those reactions that frustrate me. Firstly, a popular reaction to a suicide is anger. Allowing yourself to be consumed with unabashed anger will only exacerbate your processing of loss. There you are, providing the discourse stating your aversion to the victim’s decision has led you to believe this person a complete asshole. What an astute observer! This person has taken his or herself away from me so I think they are an asshole. Yes, a cliche conclusion and one that forms as a result of inward thinking. I don’t think my friend was an asshole and I won’t feign an understanding of their decision. I won’t make assumptions that if only we had been more attentive, or if only we truly listened, they may be here right now.
Blame and wonder are irrelevant and maddening. These are things that should be collected in a puddle of excess emotion and left to evaporate. Don’t approach either in casual stride and don’t allow yourself to get caught up in the questions. Move forward only in the understanding of what this is and what this creates.
You will always have to deal with those who become the departed’s best posthumous pal. Everyone’s life is a fickle cocksucker with an insatiable need for importance and relevance. Nothing will avail the desires of the insecure, so allowing this to happen may be in your best interest. Perhaps this posthumous pal only knew the departed as an acquaintance, but wants to reminisce of the two hours they spent laughing together. This holds no relevance in your own ability to cope.
Everyone will cope with death very differently. The only advice I can give you as man who has lost two close friends to suicide, is that you must allow the loss to affect you. You must put effort into memory, and be relentless in allowing yourself some understanding. Understand what this means for you and for what follows. Remember their voice, remember the jokes you made together, and remember the embarrassing moments you shared. Then cry about it. Cry because you’ll never experience those things with this person again. Cry because all you have left are memories that fade with the inevitable passing of time.
So find solace in the knowledge that this is now over. The outcome is an unfaltering stone of finality; irreversible. Your friendship and experiences in tact and unable to be altered.
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