Remembering Scott: A Message on Suicide

I realize that as a Christian woman, writing about another man could be viewed as disrespectful or inappropriate. This piece represents a very small but impactful moment in my life and I wanted to share that story. 

It will be sixteen years this week that I had my first understanding of death and what it means to lose someone that had once held a special place in your life.  It was during this week that a guy that I had once dated and still considered a friend committed suicide.

Scott was a blond haired, blue eyed, British, guitar playing, motorcycle riding “older” man.  He came into my life through some mutual friends.  Now when I say older, I mean just a few years, although at 20, those few years seemed to be an eternity. Scott was the anti-boyfriend. Completely different than any guy I had previously dated.  We had known each other for a while and slowly grew fond of each other.

Scott was a romantic. He would take me on motorcycle rides to the beach and then read me poems he had written.  He could play the guitar and would often sing me songs.  When I moved into my new apartment, he broke in a set up a picnic in the living room.  These were the type of things that attracted me to him but it was the other side that drew me away.

You see, Scott, also had a very dark, depressed side. He was often moody and unpredictable. When he drank, which was often, his moods became erratic and sometime mean.  He was never abusive nor cruel but I knew that the situation was not for me. There was no big break up, just a dwindling of contact.  We still had the same mutual friends and being in a small college town it was only inevitable that we would see each other again.  I have to be honest, it was hard to see past the romance into the depression sometimes.  When he was in a good mood, and we were out, we flirted easily with each other. 

As the days, weeks months passed on after our relationship ended Scott had quite a few let downs. He lost his job, had girl friend issues, ect.  He was nearing the time that he would be required to return to England and I am only guessing but it seems that those were the walls that closed in on him. 

Sometime during the week of August 18th, Scott left our quaint little town, drove to another state, checked into a hotel and spent his final hours preparing for his death. He typed up his poems, organized his belongings, and wrote his suicide letter. He then took a gun and shot himself. Taking his life and leaving behind a sadness that even 16 years later can feel like it was only yesterday.

As I had said, this was my first experience with death, outside of a pet.  I did not know anyone, much less someone who I had a dating relationship with, that died. It was shocking. My young immature brain could not really process the depths of what had happened.  I didn’t, and still do not, understand suicide.  I can’t understand feeling so desperate that you would choose to die.  That you would want to cause pain and anguish to people who love you. 

Now, sixteen years later, I can still recall the phone call from my friend Jenn. I can hear her the panic in her voice saying, “Scott is dead,” I can remember riding out to their condo, sitting around the living room trying to make sense of this tragedy with our other friends. The quick planning of a memorial service, the hours spent reading his journals and poems and the tears of all my friends.

If he was still alive today, I am not sure I would still know him. Maybe through a friend of a friend or on Facebook but because he died, he owns a piece of property in my heart. His death marks a chapter in my life that I wish had not been started.

So to honor his memory today and to put a public mark on sixteen years of private grief, I write my story about Scott. I pray that the years have decreased his parents and sisters pain and as they mark this anniversary, that God provides peace to their memories. 

For me, I will remember the rides, poems and little knocks on my store window. I will remember his smirky smile and I will pray that God touches those that still remember.

Here is a poem that Scott wrote:

We Waste Life


Every time we…


oversleep on a day off


watch the adverts


wait at bus stops


deceive a friend


hate being alone


pass a stranger without saying “hello”


refuse an offer for help


dwell on our failures


get bored with ourselves


are afraid to take risks


let money get in the way


forget old friends


are scared to ask


embrace our ignorance


hit our children


get drunk and offensive


waste our talent


refuse to let go


let the dark in…


we waste life.


S.C.

If you or someone you know is considering suicide. Please get help. The suicide hotline number is 1.800.273.TALK or you can view their website at http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/



Suicide does not have to be a choice. Help is available. Please seek help for those you love and those who love you. Don’t waste your life.