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I think it was last Wednesday when (much to nobody’s surprise) I decided to stop at my home away from home and wet my whistle by consuming a few beers and a shot of two of bourbon before calling it a night. Sure enough, I was greeted by the usual suspects but something in the air was different and not in a good way.

After making the usual inquiries and asking about how their day went I could see that something was amiss. Instead of the usual bitching, moaning and complaining, the most I got in return was a few one word answers and distracted looks. I managed to get the bartenders attention and motioned her over to where we could hold our conversation in private.

Borgo: ” What’s up with people tonight?”

Bartender: “Do you remember (insert name here)?”

Borgo: “Sure, I haven’t seen her in awhile though.”

Bartender: “She killed herself last night.”

Fuck.

After some further inquiries I was told she overdosed (purposely) on a combination of sleeping pills and booze. Since I had lost contact with her over the years it came as kind of shock. From what I could recall she had always seemed pretty upbeat and even though she wrestled with some personal demons regarding her appearance, she had seemed to overcome them.

I firmly believed that I didn’t need anyone but me
I sincerely thought I was so complete
Look how wrong you can be

(Excerpt from the Rod Stewart song, Every Picture Tells a Story

As it turns out, this was her third time in her all too short 35 years on Earth that she had tried to take her life. It seems that over the past couple of years she had been in and out of rehab, lost her only child of two months and been through a series of failed relationships with both married and single men.

All of this got me to thinking that there’s at least five or six people that I’ve known over the years that have, for whatever reasons, decided to take their own life. Every time it happens, it brings back a bad taste in my mouth that no breath mint or mouthwash can completely erase.

And those are just the one’s I know about. I hope I’m wrong but I’m sure that a few of my boyhood friends that I ran with so many years ago and fellow Jarheads that I served with have decided to go that route.

Over the next few days I’m sure they’ll be some debate at the bar amongst the patrons about how either “suicide is selfish” or other conflicting points of view. I’m gonna try my best to stay out of it. Whatever I say, think or do, won’t change the fact that it still happened.

A long time ago, I created a nodeshell called The life you're fucking with may not be your own that was meant to address these types of situations.

Sadly, I still don’t have the words to fill it in.

What a shame.