Whenever I hear about someone who’s suicidal, it saddens me. Whenever I hear about someone who has committed suicide, it saddens me.
Not that my thoughts have never drifted in that direction. There have been a few moments in my life where the pain of what I was going through was so great that, for brief instances, I could see the appeal of just not feeling ever again. But those moments disappeared as quickly as they came, because I really do love life too much to let go of it. And no matter how brave and intelligent a person may normally be, suicide is a supremely stupid and cowardly act.
But when a person who is suicidal causes death and injury to innocents, it infuriates me. You want to kill yourself? Fine, but don’t you dare drag anyone else into it.
How does it feel to change your mind at the last minute, to survive when others have died? How does it feel to be a cowardly murderer?