[TNP777]

In late 2012, former Cincinnati Reds outfielder Ryan Freel took his own life. These were my thoughts then. Perhaps they provide context now.

As I sit down to write, I've got a bunch of thoughts running through my head. I hope I'm able to articulate properly what I'm processing right now, and I hope I don't ramble too much.

When I read or hear of someone taking their own life, it breaks my heart. I've grieved for friends, I've grieved for strangers, I'm grieving for Ryan Freel. I remember the 16-year-old son of a friend who hung himself with a belt and how I hurt for him and his family for so long. Being a fan of sports in general, I remember feeling so damn sad when I heard about Hireki Irabu and Junior Seau, as they were both close to my age. I think about the pain they had to have been feeling. I wonder who was in their lives that they could have reached out to, or whether they thought they were truly alone.

(redacted) said early on that Freel was a selfish motherXXXXer. While the language was harsh, there was some truth in the statement. From the point of view of those on the outside, it IS selfish. Loved ones are left wondering what they could have done, what they could have said. Maybe they regret the last thing they might have said to that person, thinking it might have tipped them over the edge. Everyone is left dealing with some level of pain and loss. So many things to process, and none of them positive.

Trouble is, the last thing on the mind of someone contemplating suicide is being selfish. It's simply about ending the pain, or ending what they feel is a hopeless situation, or having a sense of complete and utter worthlessness. See, I've been that guy. I was 17 years old when I made the attempt. I thought all of those things specifically, and probably more. I sometimes look back on that kid and sometimes ask myself if things were really so bad. In hindsight, no they weren't, but then I have the benefit of maturity and wisdom to see things far differently now than I saw them then.

I'm so, so thankful that I failed. All my attempt cost me was four days in the hospital; obviously it could have cost me so much more. As a result, I now get to share my story with those that care to listen. Maybe I can be the one that makes a small difference in someone's life. Hopefully I get the opportunity to tell someone that they DO matter, that they ARE loved, and their life is changed because of my experience.

There are those here that have no sympathy for folks who are suicidal, or have committed suicide. C'mon, nothing could be THAT bad. Sack up and stop being so weak - everyone has problems, after all. Me, I can't be so quick to judge. I may have been an immature kid, but I've done a little walking in those shoes. It's not so cut & dried. The pain is real, and the desire to just end it is often too hard to deny.