Why now?

Why now? Why this time?

What is it that tips the scales for someone who is struggling with the choice? The choice of whether or not to take that one final action that will end it all.

Is it that the pain has become too much? Or is it that moment when it doesn’t hurt anymore at all that marks the breaking point? That moment when the ache of depression is replaced with apathy. The numbness that envelops you and just leaves you not caring if you wake up tomorrow.

When we see the death of someone who has struggled for so long with depression we wonder… why now? What was it that made them, this time, take that one final step that they never did before? Why, when they made the choice before to live, did they now, this time, choose to die? Those questions bring with them the accompanying ones that haunt those of us left behind.

Was there something that we could have done to change that final decision. Were there actions that we could have taken that would have altered the path? Words that might have been spoken? Something…anything?

No one will ever know though. That one singular final choice that can never be taken back is not in anyone else’s hands. That’s the answer, and it’s the only answer that we’ll ever get.


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