And death is at your doorstep
And it will steal your innocence
But it will not steal your substance
A few weeks into our first year in campus, Brian’s body was found hanging lifeless on a tree outside our hostel in the wee hours of the morning. Death had crept in during the night and left us with more questions than we had answers to.
It’s a sad tragedy that majority of us stop living long before we die. We try to find fault in the music yet we are the ones who stopped dancing. Heartbeats are no longer a celebration of life but countdowns to a ticking bomb.
“For many years, the suicide rate has been about 4 times higher among men than among women. In 2014, men had a suicide rate of 20.7, and women had a rate of 5.8. Of those who died by suicide in 2014, 77.4% were male and 22.6% were female.”
One of the faults of depression, especially in men, is that it leaves you feeling like an island. Sometimes friends and family try to help. You’re faced with questions as to what the issue is and how they can help. But you cannot put your finger to it and that makes it worse.
But you are not alone in this
And you are not alone in this
As brothers we will stand and we’ll hold your hand
Hold your hand
The point I am driving at, in the chaos of this post, is that we need male support systems. For me this is a daily struggle and I’ve set up internal control measures like writing but there are many out there who do not have the same privilege. There needs to be an honest dialogue about mental health and what the BC medical journal termed “The silent epidemic of male suicide“.
But I will tell the night
And whisper, “Lose your sight”
But I can’t move the mountains for you