Tuesday, November 7, 2006

Suicide.

Two days ago, my sister's friend committed suicide. And, while I didn't know him, I find myself reeling in the aftermath.

A little over three years ago, my cousin, Ben, killed himself. He was 19. A good kid. My sister was closest to our cousin and, of my siblings, I think she was hardest hit. Some of the events that precipitated his death parallel those of her friend, and so it is all the more eerie.

Emile Durkeim (one of the founding fathers of sociology) said that suicide is the most individual act a person can engage in, meaning it is the least "social" behavior. I remember realizing soon after, that Ben's death was not unlike a rock thrown into a pond: it creates a seemingly endless ripple effect. So many people were directly and indirectly affected by his actions, and the fact that I cried after hearing news of Danielle's friend, a person I had never met, makes me question Durkeim's logic. (Though I was crying for my sister - her suffering - should not affect the point I'm trying to make.)

While I understand that he was referring to suicide as an individual act in terms of mindset/one's consciousness, I can't believe that it is not inherently social. People and behaviors, actions, etc., are what comprise society...and when incalculable numbers of people are affected by one person's individual free will, it becomes a social action.

What's more, this most recent suicide has me revisiting the death of my cousin, reliving all of the anguish. Not only that, but how he could have felt so alone or so uncurably miserable that jumping off a freeway overpass was seen as the most appropriate solution. What our heads talk us into doing when our hearts are broken...or is it that our heads are broken and the hearts do the talking?

Aside from this pondering, comes a - perhaps - unanswerable question. When do we act on instinct, and when on rational thought? (It's the proverbial head vs. heart question that plagues me ceaselessly.) Without going into detail, my sister felt instinctively that she should have acted in a certain way to help her friend, but she had someone else telling her to "be smart" and avoid entangling herself too deeply in the situation. In the end, rationality won out, and truth be told, that person was probably wrong. Now all she has left is "what if?".

And the rest await ripples.