Putting life into his own hands.

Robin Williams. Found dead. Apparent suicide.  Every time I hear of one. Makes me wonder. Why?  In my lifetime. Many suicides. Of people I knew. Or thought I knew. And maybe didn’t. Including my father. I’ve concluded. That many of the suicides were for legitimate reasons. Mostly, unhappiness. With life. I’ve never contemplated taking my own life. Maybe because I’m happy. Or able to fool myself into thinking so. But hey, I can imagine other people being chronically unhappy. In so-called depression. I’m lucky. No bouts of depression.  I refuse to become depressed. By having multiple ways of turning unhappiness into happiness. Call me an expert. In cultivating happiness and joy and pleasure.  But I have no objection to other people taking their own lives. If that’s their choice. So be it. Some people just don’t want to live. For a variety of reasons. Some legitimate. Doesn’t surprise me when someone in the early stages of Alzheimer’s opts for suicide.  Or someone dreadfully ill decides he’s had enough of life. And doesn’t want to cope with the pain any more. In the case of my dad, he was in mental pain. In depression, I suppose. He didn’t want to put up with it any more. So he ended his life. That took an act of courage, it seems to me. Though some would say he was a coward. For not facing life. But that was exactly what he was doing. Facing life. Putting life into his own hands. –Jim Broede