If I asked all of you to raise your hand if you’ve ever been personally affected by suicide, I have a sneaking suspicion that every single one of our hands would collectively, silently, raise. I’ve lost more than one close friend to suicide, I’ve been there to help more than I can count as they’ve suffered the loss of their own friends or family, I’ve been there to talk so many others down from themselves. I am tired of losing beautiful souls to a darkness that is altogether surmountable, to an emptiness that can be filled, if only we’re all given the chance to do so. Given the chance to help. This, this is why I’m writing today, to beg, to implore, to plead, to ask gently a favor:
If you ever hit a low, a low low, please, promise me you will reach out for help. I don’t care where you reach, I don’t care how you reach, but reach. Please, reach. I want to know that you will be standing on some darkened hilltop, somewhere far off into some beautiful wild, raising your own hand in defiance against the sadness that tried to take you, the exhaustion that tried to do you in. I want to know that you’ll be willing to ask for help, to scream, to shout, to refuse to give up. Please. If you’ve no one else, ask me.
Here is the USA number for now, I know they are working on a 3 digit number similar to 911 soon, but for now:
Stay with us. Wherever you are, stay with us. We are here.
If it’s help you need
scream shout and reach out for it.
Do not give up yet.
Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson
Song of the Day
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