The thin line

In this lead up to the fifth anniversary of Leslie Cheung's suicide, I have been pondering what it is that has us want to live, or to die.  I am no stranger to suicide in my own life.  A good friend from graduate school who suffered from schizophrenia ended his life by throwing himself in front of a large truck.  He left behind a lovely wife and young daughter.  His disease was controlled by drugs and apparently he had everything to live for.  One day he stopped taking his medication and it was too much for him.  My grandfather ended his life with a handgun over 20 years ago.  We are still mystified to this day why he did it.  He wasn't noticeably depressed, he was in apparent good health, well off financially and living an active life.  My father was diagnosed with multiple cancers last spring.  When it became apparent that the treatments were not effective and his case was inoperable and terminal, he choose to stop them.  But more than this, he also chose to stop taking in any nourishment.  His cancer was not to the point that it was causing organ failure.  In the end, he starved himself to death, but it took over five weeks.

To live demands a lot

So it is dangerous if you lose your appetite for life.

If life and death weigh equally

It is much easier to simply let go--

Surrender the struggle

And slip into oblivion,

Let death tip the balance--

Take back its own and have its way.

Easier to just rest a weary heart--

Stop fighting for something more,

For something less.

To just cease,

Let the heart break

And loosen the grasp on your dreams;

Exhale, surrender,

Turn away from the future

To finally let the past be;

Easier to lay down a weary soul consumed by suffering

And stop willing a reluctant heart to beat,

To touch bottom

And not push off

Relinquishing the struggle to exist

For even one more breath.