Holiday Season is Mixed

'Tis the Holiday Season again, as we all know.

We are less than two weeks away from the Solstice, at which time we will begin to get our light returned to us on this side of the globe.  It is spending its allotted time down on the Southern Hemisphere right now.

Last week, to kick off the holiday season, David Brooks, the esteemed columnist of the NY Times wrote a piece explaining why it is not good for anyone to commit suicide.  A cheery topic, and I'm not quite sure why he picked it, except that some statistics came out showing that suicide rate around the world seem to be increasing.

Mr. Brooks said it's a bad idea because most people who attempt suicide and somehow fail, later to report that they are able to reach a point at which they are happy to be alive.  Also, he said, suicide is selfish, and it hurts the people who are still alive.  This is often, although not always, true also.

Now, I'm not for suicide, except perhaps if you (perhaps me) get old, are in great pain, can hardly remember who you are, and have no chance of improvement except to take huge amounts of drugs which will made your pain less but your awarenes of self negligible.

I have spent lots of time convincing people to stay alive another day or two, just to see if they feel better, or see some other option.  I generally feel that we all will be dead for a really long time, and that we are only alive for a short time, so we should see what happens with the time we have.

But I appreciate that some people spend the time they have in misery and desperation, and despite the wisdom of others, it often feels like the stress, the pain, the losses, the agony, just isn't worth hanging around for.

I spent an hour with Alice (not her real name, and not the exact details) last week.

She is now almost sixty, and looks about eighty.  Her pain began as soon as her mother decided that Alice looked too much like her father.  Soon after Alice's birth her mother stopped liking the father, and Alice along with him.  Because of this resemblance, the mother rejected Alice.  She would beat her, demean her, scream at her and lock her in a room.  The mother did this to half of her six children. The other half she favored.

Alice survived because of an aunt and her older sister who both tried to protect her.  But her life was never smooth.  When she was fourteen her brother brought some of his friends home so they could rape her.  She broke three of her brother's ribs with a candle stick, and sent one of his friends' to the hospital with a concussion.  That got her into a "girls' school.'

Her one real love relationship died of an overdose.  Her other attempts to be with a man were much less than successful.  These relationships were often violent.  Alice was in many fights, had many rages when she almost killed someone, and was often badly beaten herself.

From the ages of 17 to 53 she drank very heavily.  Then she stopped.

Now she is calmer, sober, but alone and in great pain.  Her father has been dead a long time but her mother, almost ninety live on, with a sister, and still swears at Alice.  Alice and that sister are the only two of the six who are still alive. Two died of cancer, one in a motorcycle accident and one was murdered.

Now Alice needs a new hip. She walks with great difficulty. Her wrists are so bad that she can't open her car door without a great deal of pain.  She is probably brain damaged a bit from all the fights and alcohol.  Every joint hurts.  She trusts no one.

She said that she often wishes she was dead.  She won't kill herself because,... because that's not what she does.  She is a survivor.

So we talk about what we can try to do to make her life a bit better.  She isn't religious.  She didn't think God was on her side.  She doesn't believe in love.  She hardly believes in "like."
But when she takes a couple of Percocets, she can get comfortable enough to be curious about what will happen next.

I hope your holidays bring you closer to someone who you can like and trust.