I’m not a vegan or an animal-rights activist, but there is something profound about taking another living creature’s life.

The other night, I hit a bird while driving my car. Its been years since I’ve felt that particular and distinct thud of running over a creature. Oh sure, I’ve killed several thousand bugs and a few bees have kamikazed themselves into my flesh while I was on my motorcycle, but feeling that thump, hearing the thunk, and seeing in my rear view mirror a snow of feathers cascading in my wake sent a pang of sadness and sorrow through my body.

I am so sorry that in my rush from point A to point B you had to give up your life.
Not for my sustenance, but because of my disconnect.

When I drove home, I was too cowardly to retrace my path for fear I might see from my front window the death I caused.

It seems such a little thing – the death of a pigeon, but if I hadn’t left my home on a wave of anxiety, that bird would still be alive.

… and what a lovely sunset it was.

I found out this afternoon that a friend of mine died this last Sunday.

He put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

In his case, I can’t really blame him. He was diabetic, losing his eyesight, in poor health, in constant pain, and just got news that his leg was going to have to be amputated above the knee.

———————————

It is many hours and a fair amount of sake and whiskey since I started this post. Since I rarely drink, I feel I should disclaim in advance.

There is but one truly philosophical problem, and that is suicide.

~ Albert Camus

Don’t we all have some wound, psychic or physical? At what point is it too much? My friend decided that losing limbs and his senses (sight) was too much.

I couldn’t help but take that news today and fly back in time and think about my dad. Hell, it’s closing in on Father’s Day anyway and I was working on writing something for that day. Might as well start now.

My pop’s death was deemed an “accidental overdose,” but I know, and those of us close to him knew, that it was a suicide. Perhaps an “accidental suicide” but regardless, the man was in pain and had been self-medicating for years as a means to an end.

So, the question is: Why do people kill themselves? Okay, maybe that’s not the question, because that answer is easy: they were in pain. I guess the question is: how much pain is enough? Perhaps that is the question.

In my friend’s position, he was falling apart. Literally. (and yes, I mean that word in the true sense, not in some hipster figurative miscalculation of the word). In my dad’s case… I don’t know. He had a pain in his belly that he’d had since he was in his early 20’s, most likely a result of a botched surgery. He also had considerable “psychic pain”. Would that spiritual or psychic pain have been enough to do the deed if he hadn’t the physical pain as well? Would he have been an alcoholic and drug abuser without the physical pain? I don’t know. I tend to think, yes. But these are questions that will never be answered. Do people who have constant physical pain not have psychic pain as well? I know plenty of people who have psychic or spiritual pain who have no physical maladies. And that pain is plenty on its own.

I will refer now to one of my most-liked websites Post Secret (and if you don’t know the history of this very cool project, check here.) They list the Suicide Prevention Hotline at the bottom of most of their weekly posts.

That said… and please refer to my above disclaimer…  I feel like a Bad Person ™ even asking this, but is suicide sometimes a viable alternative? I mean, why should someone live in pain and have a super poor quality of life? Just for the sake of being able to say that they are alive? Because people who love that person don’t want them to go away? That seems rather ridiculous and selfish to me.

I’m too tired to continue this post, and perhaps I could condense it to a two, or three line Facebook status report and elicit a spirited debate in that medium, but this is my website, so I’ll post here. Feel free to comment, argue, grandstand. I’m not guaranteeing I’ll “approve” all comments (this is not a democracy site, but a totalitarian fun park, after all) but I still would like to hear your thinks.

I hope any of that makes sense because I’m not going to bother editing it.
I’m going to forage in my refrigerator now, because apparently rambling to the interwebz gives me an appetite.