Most heart-wrenching are the suicide files of models--always girls. Those pretty stick-figures with a perfect pout--outside. Inside, they are just you and me; or worse. Their stories bring down the facade of showbiz, exposing to the rest of the world the patina and moths underneath, crawling all over the surface, nibbling the innards to a porous skeleton. The facade is then built faster than it was destroyed. Their stories remind us of the fact that women (in every place in the universe) need, just need, to be loved. All that they want is an abstract, free, emotion of love. Even that, or probably, only that, is the most impossible to attain at times. Warped is the word for the ways of life.
While some die out of excess happiness, others die due to fatal depression; no matter what, they are all smitten. Smitten by love, by fame, by fake glory, by pseudo limelight, by striving to be on top and such. Somewhere, at some point, the pain wracks the heart and when one is capable of actually feeling the heart rending, it is time for suicide. It is not really correct to believe that the victim might have been lonely. Lonely is a very relative term in that sense. How can you tell a lonely person in a crowd? Severe depression and acute, severe restlessness can be the culprits. But really, these are only symptoms. Suicide is not a diagnosis. It is a treatment, self adopted by the victim doctor; the one treatment in the world that you may not want to be successful. The diagnosis remains a mystery forever.
Marilyn Monroe, Lucy Gordon, Daul Kim, Nafisa Joseph and many more. You might think, "I wish she met and talked to me before doing this!". Yes, because both of you were on the same page. I will not say 'everyone' goes through such ineffable pain. Quite a few women who do go through this pain will be able to understand that hanging by the rope might seem to be an easy option when life comes gnawing at you in the most vicious way possible. Yet, there are survivors. There are those who attempted to cure their plights by the fatal treatment but dropped it off. It is those women, unnoticed, unknown, who need a
We cannot bring those gone back amongst us. We can only light candles and hope they feel better if they are free now. We can only hope for good after the bad is done. What can we do to stop the pain? There is no analgesic for pain that cannot be sensed. Sigh.
Before taking their own lives, I wish, only if these girls received a loving text message or a decision-changing phone call or a knock on the door.
Take a moment everyday to make your loved ones feel more loved. Realize that their loss is a possibility and express your desire for their need. Let go of the petty nuances that will be forgotten with the person. Forgive. Love. Love. Love.