Almost too much to bear
03/04/14 05:28
I cringed when I read the headlines this morning. Not again! Of course, for those involved, the shootings at Ft. Hood, Texas, were unique - different in many ways from the shootings that took place on the same base in 2009. But there was a strange sense of deja vu as I read the story and looked at the pictures of military police directing traffic and anxious family members waiting for news of loved ones. Details are still coming in, but the toll is devastating. The gunman killed three and wounded sixteen before taking his own life. Three of the wounded are in critical condition.
We used to think of military bases as safe places. The men and women who serve in the U.S. military are called upon to put their lives on the line and to go to places of extreme danger, but we don’t expect the dangerous places to be the home bases dedicated to training and equipping troops.
The tragedy is deeper than those emotions, however. The tragedy is that we are losing far too many young men and women who have served in recent wars to suicide.
Before I go any farther, it must be understood that there is a big difference between most victims of suicide and the very few who kill others before dying themselves. It is not fair or reasonable to place all suicides in the same category.
Having said that, the tragedy is overwhelming. More than 22 veterans die by suicide every day in the United States. More US troops died by suicide than in combat in 2012. I haven’t seen the 2013 statistics yet, but I suspect that they are similar. The rate of military suicides has climbed rather steadily in recent years.
I am on call this week for our LOSS team. That means that I keep my cell phone close at hand 24 hours a day all week long. I have been averaging two weeks of “on call” per month for a long time now. When the phone rings, it is my responsibility to assemble a team of two to four first responders, depending on the circumstances and go directly to the scene of a completed suicide to assist the survivors. The phone rings too often for the relatively small two-county area our team serves. I am getting to know too many of the officers and coroners. The list of funerals I have attended is too long.
I don’t pretend to be an expert. I have read a lot of books. I have visited the scene of too many deaths. I have consoled too many grieving family members. But I don’t understand the dynamics. One of the lines that we often use in discussing suicide is that the victim “wasn’t in his or her right mind.” Those who die by suicide aren’t thinking normally at the point of their death. Of course we don’t really know what that person is thinking. The act of suicide destroys critical evidence that might be used to understand what happened. We try to learn what we can from suicide attempts that are not completed, but the best scientific minds and the most complete research comes up short.
As I write, I have two acquaintances about whom I worry deeply. One is an Afghanistan combat veteran with some PTSD symptoms. Another is not a veteran of war but a victim of many years of addiction. I believe that both are at high risk. I believe that we are doing everything that we know how to do to provide support. I have used my ASIST training in conversation with both persons. I have tried to bring together networks of support. But there is a sense of dread with every phone call. I know that I don’’t have the power to keep everyone alive. I know that I cannot prevent every suicide.
What I want to say is that life can be tough. It can be brutally tough. There are all kinds of pain and grief and tragedy that is almost too much to bear.
The key word, however, is “almost.”
Life, even at its worse is not too much to bear, only almost too much to bear. I have spoken to holocaust survivors. I have listened to more tragedy stories than some. I know that life can be miserable at moments. But I also know a bit of the resilience of the human spirit.
Anguish is not cured by calamity.
The pain doesn’t stop with death.
We can say whatever we want about the gunman who took the lives of others and created permanent damage to still more people before killing himself with the same gun. I’m sure that the grieving loved ones have no shortage of anger. The bottom line, however, is that there is never only one victim when suicide occurs.
Do you know what the best indicator of the possibility of suicide is? Do you know what they train us to look out for? We are trained to learn as much as possible about those who have known others who have died by suicide. Having known and loved someone who has died by suicide doubles the risk of an individual dying by suicide.
In a sense, every suicide is a delayed homicide.
That’s overstating the case, but it isn’t too far from the truth.
The history of the church, even recent history, is murky with rules and laws about suicide. Too often the church put itself in the place of blaming the victim and shaming the survivors. That is just plain wrong and the damage that has been done by such an attitude is immense. The stigma associated with mental illness in general and specifically suicide is unfair. But there is also an element of truth in those sometimes mistaken teachings.
This is what is true: suicide is wrong.
Don’t do it. Don’t die that way. Life can be almost too hard to bear, but only almost. Sometimes one day at a time is too much. Sometimes you have to survive second by second and minute by minute. You are never beyond help. We might not be able to fix all of the problems, but we can share them. Lifelines exist, and you have to reach out and grab them.
I weep with the grieving families of the victims at Ft. Hood. I know it is tough. But you aren’t alone. You will never be left alone. I know it is almost too much to bear, but only almost.
Never forget almost.
We used to think of military bases as safe places. The men and women who serve in the U.S. military are called upon to put their lives on the line and to go to places of extreme danger, but we don’t expect the dangerous places to be the home bases dedicated to training and equipping troops.
The tragedy is deeper than those emotions, however. The tragedy is that we are losing far too many young men and women who have served in recent wars to suicide.
Before I go any farther, it must be understood that there is a big difference between most victims of suicide and the very few who kill others before dying themselves. It is not fair or reasonable to place all suicides in the same category.
Having said that, the tragedy is overwhelming. More than 22 veterans die by suicide every day in the United States. More US troops died by suicide than in combat in 2012. I haven’t seen the 2013 statistics yet, but I suspect that they are similar. The rate of military suicides has climbed rather steadily in recent years.
I am on call this week for our LOSS team. That means that I keep my cell phone close at hand 24 hours a day all week long. I have been averaging two weeks of “on call” per month for a long time now. When the phone rings, it is my responsibility to assemble a team of two to four first responders, depending on the circumstances and go directly to the scene of a completed suicide to assist the survivors. The phone rings too often for the relatively small two-county area our team serves. I am getting to know too many of the officers and coroners. The list of funerals I have attended is too long.
I don’t pretend to be an expert. I have read a lot of books. I have visited the scene of too many deaths. I have consoled too many grieving family members. But I don’t understand the dynamics. One of the lines that we often use in discussing suicide is that the victim “wasn’t in his or her right mind.” Those who die by suicide aren’t thinking normally at the point of their death. Of course we don’t really know what that person is thinking. The act of suicide destroys critical evidence that might be used to understand what happened. We try to learn what we can from suicide attempts that are not completed, but the best scientific minds and the most complete research comes up short.
As I write, I have two acquaintances about whom I worry deeply. One is an Afghanistan combat veteran with some PTSD symptoms. Another is not a veteran of war but a victim of many years of addiction. I believe that both are at high risk. I believe that we are doing everything that we know how to do to provide support. I have used my ASIST training in conversation with both persons. I have tried to bring together networks of support. But there is a sense of dread with every phone call. I know that I don’’t have the power to keep everyone alive. I know that I cannot prevent every suicide.
What I want to say is that life can be tough. It can be brutally tough. There are all kinds of pain and grief and tragedy that is almost too much to bear.
The key word, however, is “almost.”
Life, even at its worse is not too much to bear, only almost too much to bear. I have spoken to holocaust survivors. I have listened to more tragedy stories than some. I know that life can be miserable at moments. But I also know a bit of the resilience of the human spirit.
Anguish is not cured by calamity.
The pain doesn’t stop with death.
We can say whatever we want about the gunman who took the lives of others and created permanent damage to still more people before killing himself with the same gun. I’m sure that the grieving loved ones have no shortage of anger. The bottom line, however, is that there is never only one victim when suicide occurs.
Do you know what the best indicator of the possibility of suicide is? Do you know what they train us to look out for? We are trained to learn as much as possible about those who have known others who have died by suicide. Having known and loved someone who has died by suicide doubles the risk of an individual dying by suicide.
In a sense, every suicide is a delayed homicide.
That’s overstating the case, but it isn’t too far from the truth.
The history of the church, even recent history, is murky with rules and laws about suicide. Too often the church put itself in the place of blaming the victim and shaming the survivors. That is just plain wrong and the damage that has been done by such an attitude is immense. The stigma associated with mental illness in general and specifically suicide is unfair. But there is also an element of truth in those sometimes mistaken teachings.
This is what is true: suicide is wrong.
Don’t do it. Don’t die that way. Life can be almost too hard to bear, but only almost. Sometimes one day at a time is too much. Sometimes you have to survive second by second and minute by minute. You are never beyond help. We might not be able to fix all of the problems, but we can share them. Lifelines exist, and you have to reach out and grab them.
I weep with the grieving families of the victims at Ft. Hood. I know it is tough. But you aren’t alone. You will never be left alone. I know it is almost too much to bear, but only almost.
Never forget almost.