Life is always worth living

We are all confronted by suicide eventually— often at a distance, from the newspaper or television, and sometimes, more closely, in our lives. Then we, the living, ask the inevitable question: Why?

Young people, older people, successful people, gifted or ordinary people, people with families and loved ones choose something unfathomable and wholly contrary to the value we place on human life.

If we look into the science of suicide, there are many predictable and similar reasons, circumstances and patterns at work. We feel alone, suffer from depression, are in enormous emotional pain or face crushing or difficult circumstances. Often, more than one of these psychosocial factors is at work.

And yet, from the outside, we still say: Human life is always worth living. It is a gift, one we should take responsibility for, and honor, even if our inner or outer circumstances are difficult.

This misses, of course, the tunnel that suicidal ideation becomes, and the loss of perspective it creates. Depression especially cannot see outside itself and strong emotions often take us over in the moment. Very real outer circumstances are often intractable and out of our control.

And yet, shouldn’t there be a fundamental baseline of value in human life to stave off these demons of destruction? How do we keep enough distance, even from our own life, to see its inherent value? How do we see around the next corner, where the clouds part and the sun shines?

Look more deeply and the problem is in human nature itself. We think, we see, we feel, we have free will. We are, for better or ill, the masters of our own life — or death. We are, above all, inside our own lives, not outside them, where it is easy to make prognostications.

It’s pretty existential there on the hoary edge of the question: Why am I alive? What am I here for? How much pain and loss can I take? Do I care that others love me deeply? Who gets to decide? Who is telling me I should kill myself?

We wish, ultimately, that we could answer those questions when it matters — before. Of course there are reasons for your life, even if we can’t see them, and yes, it does matter that others love you deeply. Even the most difficult circumstances or emotions change; get better. There is always a reason to choose life.

There is no lack of literature, resources and support on suicide prevention and lots of important information. And yet, suicide is up in America, by a lot, across demographics and age groups. There are a lot of different patterns: social media, cyber and in-person bullying, PTSD in veterans, economic distress, substance abuse, geographic isolation.

Popular high school athletes. Rock stars. Young girls. Older white men. How do we know? How do we help? What do they have in common? Two things are clear: Suicide happens when someone feels alone and it is a clinical issue, not a philosophical one. It is a closed-loop pattern of thought that must be interrupted.

There is no easy fix. But we can make ourselves a small part of the difference, can get out in front of this hidden virus of self-destruction. We must ask difficult questions if we worry about someone. We can educate ourselves on risk factors and warning signs. Above all, we must tell those we love and care about: Life matters, you matter, I care, you are not alone. Stay put.

Sometimes, it may be those on the periphery of our lives who need to hear this message, and from us. Let’s not stand on ceremony, and say hello.

Organizations like You Can NOT be Replaced have brought a similar, pay-it-forward, interpersonal approach to this idea, and it seems to be working. But it still begins with us.