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One of those awful things December 4, 2009

Posted by Fiona in Big things.

I found out last night that someone I used to know committed suicide earlier this week.

When I knew him, we were pretty young – he was about three years older than me, I think, and we used to go to Children’s Church together.  We were the Ruling Majority of the three wise men one year in the Nativity play and he was really good with the younger ones.  I thought he was a lovely guy.

I hadn’t seen him in years, although his mum and my mum have been best friends for a long time, and I still see her at church when I’m at home.  A few years ago, he got addicted to drugs (something or other, I never found out what, exactly) and would disappear for a few weeks at a time, before turning up living rough in the middle of London.  When he died, he was in a centre to dry out and seemed to be making progress.  He threw himself under a train, not far from my local station.

My mum told me this on the phone yesterday evening.  I know his mum must have gone through who knows what over the last few years, I can hardly get my head around it.  I hope he’s somewhere better now, even if that somewhere is nowhere at all.

I mention this because I want to tell a few people but I don’t want to discuss it.  Also because what might have been is sad, sometimes, but what actually was is just the hugest thing, and you can’t get around it, or hide from it, or overcome it, and sometimes it just is that difficult to understand.  The boy is beyond everything, now, but I feel for his mum so much.



1. teacherface - December 4, 2009

I had a similar(ish) experience myself, recently. I found out a friend of my from school had died in a collison with a bus in London. I’d not spoken to her for years but I still felt this sense of immense loss, it was quite eerie. There’s nothing to make this kind of thing seem better, is there? As clichéd as it sounds, I suddenly found a new appreciation for what I’ve got.

2. Lucy - December 6, 2009

I went home very briefly this weekend and learned that a local woman who mum knew (and had at least one daughter in L6) committed suicide last weekend. It’s ghoulish, but I still can’t help wondering how she did it.

... - December 6, 2009

THAT’S the part of that story that you find most important about?

stitchthisdarling - December 6, 2009

Presumably not, but when something enormous happens, fixing on something small is a natural way of dealing with it. Otherwise it’s easy to just get overwhelmed.

Lucy - December 7, 2009

Exactly, Fi. Of course it’s not the part of that story that I find most important. I’m not that heartless.

3. Jenny - December 6, 2009

last time i went home someone had thrown themselves in front of hte train I was about to catch from Brum, so they had to bring in a whole new train for us, obviously massively delayed. It was unsettling in the extreme getting onto this lights-off un-ready train and knowing exactly why I was on this actual train and not the one it would otherwise have been.

4. And another thing « de minimis - January 14, 2010

[…] so clinical, doesn’t it?  This also shook me, especially after this not so long ago.  I hope that whoever it was, they’re happier where they are.  I hope it […]

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