For Chester Bennington

Another bright star was extinguished.

This is so very hard to understand. I can speak of psychological trauma and pain. I can speak about theory and psychiatric reasoning, but I am always at a loss for that moment when a person chooses that ending their life is a solution to escaping what they are experiencing in the moment.

Painting a picture of that moment, the room is darkened. The shades are drawn tight to the sills. The bed is a mess, with sheets and blankets tossed around the bed and floor. A figure is curled up in the corner against a wall. There are no more tears. There is no one else in the room. No one noticed it getting to this point. No one noticed that behind the smiles and joking was a sadness and emptiness consuming him or her.

I wonder if Chester had tried to talk with someone. I wonder if he felt too alone and hurting to open up. I wonder if he felt he had become a burden to others and chose to isolate himself from his friends and family. I once had a friend. He had experienced major trauma in his life and had recovered from it. When I had met him he had a good group of friends and a happiness and light to his soul that was very enjoyable to be around.

Slowly, as some minor losses built up in his life, my friend began to lose that light. We had spent many hours talking stereo systems and music (a shared hobby). Our kids played together. Then slowly we drifted apart. I would go to his house and he would say he didn’t feel well. Sometimes he would invite me in and we would listen to music and talk. Sometimes we just listened to music and not talk. It was that one day when I knocked on his door. He called out from the closed door, “Who is it?” I announced myself. “Hey Donnie, not feeling well, sorry man.” The door never opened.

Weeks later my daughter came over looking very sad. She told me that my friend had taken his own life. I was devastated. The first thought I had was what could I have done differently? I could feel his sadness and when I brought it up in our conversations he dismissed it, saying he was just a bit under the weather and needed to rest. I knew it was more, but, yeah, BUT!

Today with this sad news, I think about my friend again. Chester’s unfortunate decision came at a moment of complete and utter aloneness and sorrow. I cannot be afraid of having those deep conversations. I cannot shrink away from friends when they are not fun to be around. I cannot give up on them when those dark moments are looming.