I used to think suicide was a selfish act. I could not comprehend how someone could so easily end his life without any consideration for his loved ones. Now I also consider suicide as a selfless act. He who ends his life is choosing death over living because he believes that a world without him is a better one.
I wanted to bring up this idea about a selfish versus selfless act because of a dark period in my childhood. I don’t remember much but I do remember coming home to find a quiet house. I would peer into my mother’s bedroom only to see darkness. She would be sleeping when I came home and still sleeping when I went to sleep. As a child, I didn’t understand why she slept so much or never came out of her darkened room. I assumed she was lazy and simply wanted to lounge around all day. It never crossed my mind that she was depressed. Not until I was in middle school did I realize that my mother suffered from depression.
And when I realized, I could not stop crying. I cried because I felt stupid for not noticing sooner. I cried because I used to complain about how she never played with me. I cried because I blamed her for her laziness. I cried because she didn’t tuck me in anymore. I cried because I missed my mom.
She almost took her life. Almost.
What she did was neither selfish or selfless. It was heartbreaking.
I almost lost my mother without even realizing it.
I thank God every day for her failure.
And I pray she never succeeds.