LIFE | WRITING | WRITING TIPS | NOVEL WRITING

Today, I Wrote A Suicide Note

And it was the hardest 115 words I’ve ever written.

If it wasn’t apparent enough from the title then this article discusses sensitive topics.

As writers we have the pleasure of creating a thousand lives. We can create worlds made entirely of glass, or animals with an understandable spoken tongue.

Writing and creating in this way brings so much joy. To create from thin air, to breath life into the non-existent.

Is there truly any better feeling as a writer?

Unfortunately, writing isn’t always sunshine and light.

Depending on the genre of our writing, we are sometimes forced to come face to face with subjects that we much rather wouldn’t.

Today was just such a day.

My current work in progress (WIP) concerns the physical and emotional devolution of a man experiencing grief.

Depression has become his only ally, and during the opening scene we are introduced to Reuben as he pens his suicide note.

I’ve been very fortunate in my life, I have not been affected by suicide in either my immediate family or my circle of friends. Depression has crept in during certain tumultuous times, as it does with many unfortunately, but it has never been a mainstay.

Because of this I found myself needing to research.

How do you research suicide?

Typing the words,

How to write a suicide note

into Google was not an experience I relished. My finger hovered over the enter key, unsure if I should actually perform the search.

I was hit by a sudden sense of guilt.

I’m not entirely sure why, I wasn’t treating the topic with any disrespect or looking to make light of the situation, it was actually the exact opposite that led me to Google.

I wanted to do right by those that had been affected.

I wanted to understand.

And that’s when the realisation hit.

I felt a guilt because I knew, no matter what I read or researched, I wouldn’t understand. Not fully, hell, maybe not even partially. My foray into depression notwithstanding, my life has been privileged and without much worry.

But, Privilege Doesn’t Mean I Can’t Learn

As a writer, when I am reading, I am also judging. Sometimes subconsciously, typically consciously.

Nothing, gets my back up more than when somebodies ‘misfortune’ is used as a personality trait

I used quotation marks surround misfortune so that I could add a little clarity here. When I’m referring to misfortune I’m referring to something that has happened to a character. Be it a medical diagnosis, mental health, a loss, disability etc.

Some may take umbrage to having their condition referred to as a ‘misfortune’ and so I just wanted to address that.

See the conundrum I faced? Even explaining the issue brings up other areas of potential offence.

Learning, at least for me, typically occurs in one of two ways. I either research and read, taking copious notes along the way, or I immerse myself in a topic and hope to absorb as much as I can using a form of educational osmosis.

The latter in this case was neither practical, nor desired.

And that left reading.

A lot of reading.

Did you know there are lists of celebrity suicide notes?

I surely didn’t. But there are, some are even ranked…I’m not entirely sure what the ranking was based upon as I steered clear of those websites.

*I’m not going to link any websites that carry these notes, if you wish to find them it’s easy enough.

After reading through several of the top search results, it became apparent that the same few notes were being cycled through and I was learning little. Most were just snippets, and rightly or wrongly, as they were celebrities in life I couldn’t help but feel that what we were allowed to see of the notes were curated in an attempt to protect legacy.

I needed human, raw, emotion.

And That Is Where Things Became Real

Reddit, not the most trustworthy of sources, is renowned for having subreddits (think communities of like minded people discussing a singular topic) that cover almost anything.

Nestled amongst these I found groups of people that have lost friends and family members to suicide. The information they were sharing was both moving, and educational.

Being allowed to bare witness to the final thoughts of the loved ones of these unknown strangers, was voyeuristic i’ll admit.

But there was absolutely no pleasure to be found here.

As already stated, our writing takes us to places we rather wouldn’t be.

I noticed a commonality amongst the stories that I read. The outward appearance of those who were lost rarely betrayed what was simmering below the surface.

There was no cry for help beforehand, no sudden shift in mood, in fact on more than one occasion the act preceded a day of laughter and shared fun.

The most common thread?

The author of the note, in almost all notes that I read, was apologetic. Either starting or ending said note with

‘I’m sorry’

That hurt. To be so lost, so afraid, so in pain, but still with your last thought apologising for the actions you are about to take.

I couldn’t imagine the inner turmoil, but I’m learning.

Through the stories of those left behind, and through these final notes.

I penned a 115 word suicide note today. It was all I could muster after researching the topic. I feared if I attempted to write any more without a change of subject I would be lost down a hole, one I didn’t want to peer in in the first place.

115 words.

I hope I did it justice.

If you are having any suicidal thought’s then please seek help. There are so many resources available on line.