It was World Suicide Prevention Day yesterday and trust me if we don’t talk about it, then, when will we?
NB – There are tonnes of disclaimers in the following text just so we don’t offend anyone you know.
I don’t mean to sound like a negative nanny by the end of it, but like most causes in life, I feel as though it’s becoming one of those where the privilege is allowed to speak of or share their opinions on. Or even become ambassador’s (for its prevention) of.
If you ask all the kids of my generation and maybe the ones before or after, they’ve all probably either contemplated suicide or even attempted at it. I mean, does writing ‘farewell notes’ before an attempt and then waking up the next morning only to realise that the attempt was not successful sounds familiar to you?
See that’s the sad thing about it. I mean I thought it was only limited to cancer, AIDS and maybe Alzheimer’s and similar things – please note that I mean neither to offend nor belittle anyone undergoing any of these conditions, in this day and age of everyone being offended with everything – where causes were overtaken by celebrities and all. See, I know the benefit of having celebrity endorsements. The cause gets more money towards research, development and those suffering from it etc.
But what about those who try to speak about it but are sidelined by the people who are more eloquent on the subject?
It’s like why we don’t talk about marital rape in urban areas.
Or when we don’t talk about rape of younger children within a family.
Because it’s shameful.
Because the voice of the supposed privileged doesn’t matter in this instance. Because like most things, many of these situations cater to the underprivileged. Like I said, not to be a negative nanny or to diss those who were not born into privilege but I realised during this conversation of suicide and suicide prevention, why can’t those who are born into privilege speak about it? And by privilege, I mean the English speaking, credit card using, yes, I have some #Wanderlust on my Instagram feed community.
While our reasoning for committing suicide are probably not the same – no our crops did not fail and no, we probably don’t have money lenders knocking on our doors. But perhaps we are lonely and in need of someone to talk to. I mean everyone around us, including our own selves, continue to hustle hard in this day and age when petrol prices increase when you go to sleep at night.
Can you not judge?
Like my friend said, can you give us something other than prayers?
We would like someone to listen.
Maybe tell us we are not mad. Or that we are a little mad and it’s okay to be mad. That they are mad too.
We would like someone to make us feel accepted. Welcomed.
You know, make us that cup of tea with a little bit of extra sugar, just so we know that you like us.
Yes, we come from privilege. But that doesn’t mean we do not want to be heard.