I just heard today that a friend and colleague jumped to his death. On the tail of that news, I also found out that he suffered from depression. I guess that shouldn't come as a surprise, but he always seemed like a very with it guy - very health conscious, very sporty, surrounded by friends. I knew he'd had a sick mother that he needed to look after from time to time, and I can't help but wonder how it is for her, getting this news about her son.
But him. What makes someone stand on the edge, and look into that foaming abyss, and think "whatever's down there has to be better than what I have here.."? I suspect that a lack of perspective is often involved.
And I look at my son, sleeping next to me on the sofa (and yes, it took about 2 hours of grizzling for him to reach this blissful state of unconsciousness), and I hope that he'll never be drawn to that edge.
Oh well.
Adios Amigo. Sleep well, now.
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