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I wrote this to days ago;



During a survey in American schools:

• 24.1% of students had thought seriously about attempting suicide .
• 17.7% of students had made a specific plan to attempt suicide .
• 8.7% of students had attempted suicide .
• 2.8% of students had made a suicide attempt which resulted in an injury, poisoning, or overdose that required medical attention.

Suicide affects a lot of people in our community. It doesn´t just hurt family and close friends. It hurts distant friends, friends of friends and complete strangers. Teen suicide isn´t as rare as people seem to think. Only big cases ever make it to the news, ones that involve bullying, drugs etc etc.

But those stories on the news and in the paper do not portray the sense of loss that comes with being in the position of losing someone to suicide. That five minutes you listen to a story on the television, or the article you read in between your cereal and morning coffee don´t explain how weeks, months and years on there is still that void. Still the thoughts running through your mind.

¨Could I have done more?¨
¨Did I try hard enough?¨
¨Is it my fault?¨

And beyond those trivial thoughts are the memories. Words spoken in vain. Pride. Laughter. Sadness. Regretting not saying what’s in your heart. Drunken moments. Late nights spent with said person, etcetera.
After that, is that numbing sense of reality when you realise you will never see your loved one again. You will never hear their voice. Never see them smile. Never talk to them Online. Never have that one last chance.
The worst of all, is when you start to forget. When the memories start to fade and those times you can´t exactly remember what the unique pitch in their voice was. The late nights when you don´t remember exactly what tone of colour their eyes were or when certain events took place.

Nine months and three days ago I lost my ex Boyfriend Jacob Thomas Dell to suicide; and not a day goes by where I don´t think about him. Some days I just think of him in passing, others I can barely function. I find myself having fake conversations with him in my head, or wondering what would have happened if I did something different. But what if is the most dangerous road to travel down and never has good consequences.

Jacob isn´t just another percentage on a statistic. He was a brother, a son, a friend, a lover, a student, a man, a child, a drunk teen, an ex or a crush. He was a poet, a psychiatrist (in his own right), an artist, a musician, a liar, a jester, an inamorata and a cry baby. He was strong, intelligent yet fragile and silly. To some he was just a Facebook friend, others saw him at parties, and to some - like myself, he was everything. All and consuming.

I support the non-profit organisation To Write Love On Her Arms and next time you hear of someone taking their life, don´t just think ¨How sad¨ and move on with your day.

Get off your ass and find out what YOU can do to help.