Trigger warning: This post deals with the suicide of a young man. It is real. It is raw. It happened.
A young man will be buried today. He was 22 years old, and he was convinced he would be missed by no one if he ceased to exist. He was wrong.
I didn’t know Jordan well. He was a friend of my youngest daughter, and I can count on one hand the number of times I met him. His impact on my life was profound nonetheless. Time and again, I counselled my daughter in how to handle his moods, what to say to combat the hurt and anger that devoured him from the inside. She tried to save him. Oh, how she tried. She loved him when he didn’t want to be loved. She kept the lines of communication open when he tried his hardest to push her away. She tried and tried…and tried…to convince him to seek help. Once, we even called that help for him, but he talked his way out of it and didn’t speak to my daughter for weeks afterward. And yet she was still there for him when he returned to her.
The truth is, Jordan’s wounds were deep and profound. Too much so for any one person to be able to heal them. Awful, awful things had happened to him as a child and as a teen, and the people who should have been there for him weren’t. The ones who should have cared most didn’t. He was abused, he was bullied, and he was abandoned both physically and emotionally. At the age of 22, he had lost his capacity for trust, his ability to love or be loved, and his desire to recover.
The beginning of Jordan’s end came earlier this year, when he had to leave school and move home. His communications with his friends became increasingly angry and ever more despondent, he rejected all suggestion of help, and, systematically, he began to push everyone away. Love him as they might, no one could stop his downward spiral. Not my daughter, not any of his other friends, and ultimately, not Jordan.
And so a young man will be buried today, and my heart aches at the thought of the child who lived—and died—in such pain and despair. I hope he’s found a modicum of peace, and most of all, I hope he knows now that he will be missed.
If you are thinking of harming yourself…if you think no one will miss you…if you think you don’t matter…STOP. Please. There are people who can help if you’ll let them. There are people who care, even if you’ve never met them. I’m one of those people. I care. So please, please, please reach out for help. Call your local crisis line, call a friend, call your doctor…call someone and ask for help. Let Jordan’s loss give you life. Please.