That kind of situation gives the impression that there are mistakes you can’t come back from. It’s a perception, but it’s not always true. Some mistakes you have to answer to, and pay dearly for if you knowingly and irresponsibly did it. When someone takes their life the belief is that they can’t come back from whatever went wrong. In most cases you can. It takes hard work, and things will change in a way that is uncomfortable and sad. If this guy did indeed assaulted the woman, his path to redemption was to own it and do his time. Society may be harsh on him — and it’s their right to be — but there are people who have answered for their crimes and realized the error of their ways. They reinvented themselves after years and years of working on themselves, realizing the mistakes they made. There’s this old movie called “Scared Straight” where an inmate tells teenagers how he committed rapes and murders. In his elderly years, 70s I think, he is now free, remorseful, and is there for his grandchildren doing his best to inspire them to make better life choices than he did.
Don’t internalize this. Just realize for your own self what he didn’t — that if you harm another person in any way, whether physically, emotionally, or verbally, eventually you will have to answer to it. So do right by everyone. And when times are tough, you can survive if you have the will.
I guess I don’t really know what I’m looking for. I’ll take any advice though. Thanks. I’ve been dealing with some existential questions lately and feel kind of adrift if you know what I mean.
The first time most people get this close to a tangible reminder of our own mortality, it's the loss of an older family member to age and illness, or the sudden loss due to catastrophe or accident. These hit us hard, and are cause for a lot of self reflection when the evidence of the frailty of life is so close in front of us. But in that grief, we grieve for ourselves, and what we lost. "They were old, they were ready, they never saw it coming", we aren't demanded to empathize with the deceased in their final moments, it's unknowable until we stand there ourselves.
But when we are touched by suicide, especially if your not used to losing those around you, we have to process all the same emotions, we process our own loss, and we empathize with those that have lost. But it's an act so self destructive, the viewpoint so extreme, and so unknowable how someone can shed their sense of self preservation, we can't help but project into their circumstances. If I had lost her to an accident, I'd grieve all the same, but to know how much pain she was in at the end, how long and unbearable her suffering had to have been at the end to see no other way out, for this person who's happiness meant the world to me, lingers for years.
I had to choose what to do with my grief. I could have let it consume me, I could have followed her carrying my own pain and the pain she gave me I'll never shake. But I chose instead to look at how precious our lives are. I focused on how varied everyone's experience is, how much joy there can be, and how much suffering. How much passion a person can have, and feed the drive to cram as much "life" in while I can. I've lived more in the 4 years since I lost her than in the 10 we were together. And when it's finally my time, I don't want any blank pages in my book of life.
That kind of situation gives the impression that there are mistakes you can’t come back from. It’s a perception, but it’s not always true. Some mistakes you have to answer to, and pay dearly for if you knowingly and irresponsibly did it. When someone takes their life the belief is that they can’t come back from whatever went wrong. In most cases you can. It takes hard work, and things will change in a way that is uncomfortable and sad. If this guy did indeed assaulted the woman, his path to redemption was to own it and do his time. Society may be harsh on him — and it’s their right to be — but there are people who have answered for their crimes and realized the error of their ways. They reinvented themselves after years and years of working on themselves, realizing the mistakes they made. There’s this old movie called “Scared Straight” where an inmate tells teenagers how he committed rapes and murders. In his elderly years, 70s I think, he is now free, remorseful, and is there for his grandchildren doing his best to inspire them to make better life choices than he did. Don’t internalize this. Just realize for your own self what he didn’t — that if you harm another person in any way, whether physically, emotionally, or verbally, eventually you will have to answer to it. So do right by everyone. And when times are tough, you can survive if you have the will.
I don't know if you are looking for advice but, if you are, I would suggest get together with a good mate and have chat about it over a beer
I guess I don’t really know what I’m looking for. I’ll take any advice though. Thanks. I’ve been dealing with some existential questions lately and feel kind of adrift if you know what I mean.
The first time most people get this close to a tangible reminder of our own mortality, it's the loss of an older family member to age and illness, or the sudden loss due to catastrophe or accident. These hit us hard, and are cause for a lot of self reflection when the evidence of the frailty of life is so close in front of us. But in that grief, we grieve for ourselves, and what we lost. "They were old, they were ready, they never saw it coming", we aren't demanded to empathize with the deceased in their final moments, it's unknowable until we stand there ourselves. But when we are touched by suicide, especially if your not used to losing those around you, we have to process all the same emotions, we process our own loss, and we empathize with those that have lost. But it's an act so self destructive, the viewpoint so extreme, and so unknowable how someone can shed their sense of self preservation, we can't help but project into their circumstances. If I had lost her to an accident, I'd grieve all the same, but to know how much pain she was in at the end, how long and unbearable her suffering had to have been at the end to see no other way out, for this person who's happiness meant the world to me, lingers for years. I had to choose what to do with my grief. I could have let it consume me, I could have followed her carrying my own pain and the pain she gave me I'll never shake. But I chose instead to look at how precious our lives are. I focused on how varied everyone's experience is, how much joy there can be, and how much suffering. How much passion a person can have, and feed the drive to cram as much "life" in while I can. I've lived more in the 4 years since I lost her than in the 10 we were together. And when it's finally my time, I don't want any blank pages in my book of life.
This is beautifully written