It was, and for sure there is. Something tells me I’ll be revisiting the topic soon enough (we haven’t seen the sun in NYC in what feels like 5 months).
Thank you for sharing your experience so beautifully and profoundly.
Beautiful piece, my friend. I have so much admiration for the courage it took to write and share this and the grace and perceptiveness with which it's written. Having had my own moments like yours, curled up in the closet, I can relate to those counterintuitive feelings - curious, courageous, free, alive. I think those moments can be formative, necessary, and instructive for those of us who live to reflect on them. And for those who don't? Like you, I'm deeply curious about the moment in between and what lies on the other side.
Thanks Alex. It's hard to even admit we wonder about the moment and the other side. It's like it makes us pariahs in our toxically happy culture. But I'm too tired to fake happiness all the time. I'd rather be honest and curious.
Wow Latham. This is a profound share. I've never come up against a pain so acute that I sat with a weapon in hand, but I completely relate to the excitement of taking one's own life, which I equate with the act of giving up an identification with a part of myself I've been attached to. Walking away from a particular job, relationship, habit, offer of money, or way of seeing myself is something I've done many many times, as has anyone who is on the path of growth. The ability to intentionally end parts of one's life rather than the whole thing at once seems to be central to the art of living.
Thanks Rick. I don't know that what drove me into that closet was necessarily an acute pain. I can only assume that is what drove my friends into that moment, but for me, it wasn't solely the pain. I think it was desire: to feel in control, to know, to take action and detach from my past. I'm not even sure I can articulate, especially because my memories are all tinged with later thoughts about those memories. And in the act of writing this, they change again.
I appreciate you sharing this, man. It's pretty difficult to share when you get so close to ending things, and especially with strangers. Not sure if I'll ever write about it, but hearing other's stories brings a sense of solidarity, even if it's past tense.
Thanks for sharing Latham. Ultimately it’s not about what we think of what you experienced--but rather what you feel about sharing it. And you have shared that feeling. Good on ya. I’ve found in my own journey that sharing is healing.
Latham, I’ve been in the closet several times in my life, but with sheer anxiety. I deeply admire your courage and vulnerability to express this, so eloquently. Our world would have been a better place with your friends in it, and is a better place with you and your contribution in it. 🙏
Thank you James. I doubt either of us are alone in that experience (in fact I know it). I appreciate that my writing (about breakout force of all things) could resonate with you. Our world would have been better with them still in it, but it's better that they were here at least for a moment.
This was powerful and so so well executed my friend. The intro gripped my attention. You then used a seemingly mundane idea to connect it to something complex and very emotional. And then you finish with sharing something vulnerable and personal in a way that we can all see ourselves in it. Great job (as always)
Thank you Camilo. I felt like when I brought it up in Cantina a few weeks ago everyone thought I had five heads. But I got over my fear of writing it, even as my wife and parents read this one.
I can imagine this must’ve been scary to hit publish on. It’s an incredible story, incredibly told, and I’m so glad you did. This piece feels like communion.
And as a writer I’m continually inspired and encouraged by your honesty and vulnerability.
funny, I just kind of wrote about the same thing
Was that this one? https://sudana.substack.com/p/death-at-sunset-for-sappho
It's really well done. I'm sure there is lots more we could write on the topic.
It was, and for sure there is. Something tells me I’ll be revisiting the topic soon enough (we haven’t seen the sun in NYC in what feels like 5 months).
Thank you for sharing your experience so beautifully and profoundly.
And thank you for reading that piece. I struggled with the ending, I didn’t want to sound so morbid but you know, shit is morbid sometimes
Beautiful piece, my friend. I have so much admiration for the courage it took to write and share this and the grace and perceptiveness with which it's written. Having had my own moments like yours, curled up in the closet, I can relate to those counterintuitive feelings - curious, courageous, free, alive. I think those moments can be formative, necessary, and instructive for those of us who live to reflect on them. And for those who don't? Like you, I'm deeply curious about the moment in between and what lies on the other side.
Awesome writing.
Thanks Alex. It's hard to even admit we wonder about the moment and the other side. It's like it makes us pariahs in our toxically happy culture. But I'm too tired to fake happiness all the time. I'd rather be honest and curious.
Thank you for this. Quiet, profound, shocking.
I'm grateful you read and liked it Seth.
Wow Latham. This is a profound share. I've never come up against a pain so acute that I sat with a weapon in hand, but I completely relate to the excitement of taking one's own life, which I equate with the act of giving up an identification with a part of myself I've been attached to. Walking away from a particular job, relationship, habit, offer of money, or way of seeing myself is something I've done many many times, as has anyone who is on the path of growth. The ability to intentionally end parts of one's life rather than the whole thing at once seems to be central to the art of living.
Someone once said that, to find life, we have to lose it.
Thanks Rick. I don't know that what drove me into that closet was necessarily an acute pain. I can only assume that is what drove my friends into that moment, but for me, it wasn't solely the pain. I think it was desire: to feel in control, to know, to take action and detach from my past. I'm not even sure I can articulate, especially because my memories are all tinged with later thoughts about those memories. And in the act of writing this, they change again.
Wow. Thank you.
Thank you for always being here Patris.
As a child of someone who committed suicide, the answer will never be there for me.
It's not nearly enough to say I'm so sorry that you've lived through that. And yet my heart breaks hearing that.
I appreciate you sharing this, man. It's pretty difficult to share when you get so close to ending things, and especially with strangers. Not sure if I'll ever write about it, but hearing other's stories brings a sense of solidarity, even if it's past tense.
Thanks Ryan. Comments like yours are why I write. I'm grateful you're here (both in the ultimate sense and reading my words).
Thanks for sharing Latham. Ultimately it’s not about what we think of what you experienced--but rather what you feel about sharing it. And you have shared that feeling. Good on ya. I’ve found in my own journey that sharing is healing.
You are a writer. Few are, but you are.
Thank you Sidney. That means so much.
Latham, I am glad for the tons of words that exist because you resisted 5 pounds of pressure.
Thank you BB. So am I.
Latham, I’ve been in the closet several times in my life, but with sheer anxiety. I deeply admire your courage and vulnerability to express this, so eloquently. Our world would have been a better place with your friends in it, and is a better place with you and your contribution in it. 🙏
Thank you James. I doubt either of us are alone in that experience (in fact I know it). I appreciate that my writing (about breakout force of all things) could resonate with you. Our world would have been better with them still in it, but it's better that they were here at least for a moment.
This was powerful and so so well executed my friend. The intro gripped my attention. You then used a seemingly mundane idea to connect it to something complex and very emotional. And then you finish with sharing something vulnerable and personal in a way that we can all see ourselves in it. Great job (as always)
Thank you Camilo. I felt like when I brought it up in Cantina a few weeks ago everyone thought I had five heads. But I got over my fear of writing it, even as my wife and parents read this one.
You still have five heads. These things are not mutually exclusive, you see.
Impressive writing and vulnerability. This flowed so well.
Thank you David. I'm grateful you like it.
Poetic timing!
https://open.substack.com/pub/poeticoutlaws/p/to-the-young-who-want-to-die?r=5gu5s&utm_medium=ios&utm_campaign=post
I read that yesterday. Beautiful timing.
This line really hit me:
"When the weight of the trigger against their finger went from heavier and heavier to suddenly lighter"
Thanks Charlie. I’m grateful that it resonated.
I can imagine this must’ve been scary to hit publish on. It’s an incredible story, incredibly told, and I’m so glad you did. This piece feels like communion.
And as a writer I’m continually inspired and encouraged by your honesty and vulnerability.
Love it Latham.
Thank you Tommy. It didn't feel as scary to publish as it did to write the first few drafts. But I am glad it's out and my confessions continue.