Rita, I've been pondering the issue, somewhat in a quandray, trying to see all sides.
Having lived for over 70 years, I have known people who committed suicide, and the people they left behind. Those close to them tend to be filled with guilt. Where did I go wrong? What could I have done differently? What signs did I misss? If only ... And so often the answer is "It's not your fault." "You didn't cause it; you couldn't fix it."
Two sisters - each with three or four kids - their second children, girls, are near the same age; cousins growing up together, attending the same school, sharing the same friends, having sleep-overs, giggling over plans for 'when I'm grown up'. One girl becomes a teacher - grade one at a local school. The other drops out of university, writes poetry, moves to a larger city. One girl develops a brain tumor. The other is diagnosed as bi-polar. Two years later they are both gone. And no one at fault for either death. But one of the sisters gets sympathy and understanding. The other feels a degree of questioning and condemnation.
The reasons for suicide are varied and complicated. Person A is not responsible for what Person B does.
And yet -
and yet -
when we see patterns - when we see suicide (or violence or murder) particularly prevalent among a segment of the population (gay or trans kids; or Inuit or First Nations kids; or any other identifable group) we have to ask Why? Is there something in the system (church, school, community, society) that drives these people to self-destruction? What causes them to lose hope? to despair? to anger and hatred, whether it is turned outward to those closest to them or turned to themselves - what causes them to self-destruct? How can we change the picture? How can we help?
