I saw a man kill himself last night.
No, this is not a joke, and no, I will not provide details other than it was incredibly tragic. And it led me to a thought or two.
Many of you know I suffer from major depressive disorder. There are days when I just want to end it all, where I wonder why God put me on this Earth and what possible good I can do for anyone. It’s a terrible disease, and one I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
And yet, at the same time… I sometimes think it is a gift. Because I have learned to live without hope, and sometimes that is a great ability. Only people with suicidal tendencies can truly understand hope, I think, because it is the promise of hope — not hope itself — that gets you through the darkness. The idea that one day things may improve. The lie you whisper: “One day this will change. One day this will get better. One day I’ll be… happy.”
And of course, it isn’t a lie. Things do change. Things do get better. Happiness is found if you go through enough doors and walk enough miles. You just have to go through some dark patches along the way. So people who believe that hopelessness is their reality… we can lie to ourselves. We have a disease that keeps us from believing anything good will ever happen, but more often than not we keep on going. Why? Because we hope for hope. We don’t set our sights high, we hope not for feasts but for the scraps that fall from the table.
And that is enough. It has to be. Because if you can sustain yourself long enough on those scraps… again… things change. Things get better. Things become good.
That’s a large part of why I write horror: because it’s a genre that allows me to explore the utmost terror in order to find the greatest grace. Stories that permit me to continue lying to myself. “It’ll be better. It’ll change. I’ll be happy.” Because even in the horror, even in the darkness… there is light. There is goodness.
There is hope.
I don’t know why the man did what he did last night. My prayers go out to him and to his family and loved ones.
If you hurt. If you are ill. If you look at the rafters and think which one will support your weight… Hold on. Keep lying to yourself. Keep telling yourself that if you just keep moving forward, things will change, things will get better, you will be happy.
Because, as this storyteller will tell you, sometimes the greatest truths can be found when we tell ourselves wonderful lies. Of hope.
God bless. Hug your families. Be good to each other. Never hurt yourselves.
Hope.
If you or someone you know needs help, see our suicide prevention resources.
If you need support right now, call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.
Michaelbrent Collings is an internationally-bestselling novelist and one of the top indie horror novelists in the U.S. He is also a multiple Bram Stoker Award-nominated author and produced screenwriter, and gets invited to speak at writing conventions and comic cons all over the the place about writing, horror and working with and through mental disorder… though his biggest accomplishments are being married to an amazing woman and having the best children in this or any other world. You can find him and more of his blog posts at his website, WrittenInsomnia.com, or watch his TEDx talk about some of his mental health journey at https://youtu.be/HKjfYMomp9U.
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