he seemed so happy
A beloved weatherman committed suicide recently. We watched him nearly every morning in my house, and we will miss him immensely.
He was a funny guy–clever, never mean, and certainly not afraid to look silly for the sake of a laugh. The kind of guy people flocked to because, well, he just made you feel better.
But he was suffering.
A large percentage of depressed people don’t look depressed.
It’s a corny cliché: “Laugh, clown, laugh.” But it’s based in truth.
When you’re flat, packed in cotton, humor is a stimulant. It’s self-medication.
Problem is, like any stimulant, it wears off.
We are all responsible for our own actions. If you can have a hand in saving someone, it is a blessing for both of you. If you can’t, it is not you’re fault.
Suicide is not a decision made in a rational moment–believing your loving family and friends would be better off if you didn’t exist–how could that ever, ever be true?
Just because someone can laugh and crack a joke, make you smile, doesn’t mean he feels joy or satisfaction or safety.
Try to hold his hand until the irrational moments pass, if he’ll let you.
Pray he’ll let you.