I remember around the same time we heard about Robin Williams, a fellow I had just recently sung the National Anthem with at a ballgame went missing one day, never to be heard from again. Weeks later, he was found many miles away, having committed suicide in the mountains of western Maryland. He had seemed like a happy-go-lucky fellow, good sense of humor, fun to be around. The two incidents happening so close together really jarred me.

But, having been suicidal myself, twice in my life (at ages 17 and 23), I’ve never asked, “Why?”, nor “How could someone do that?” I know what it’s like to be in that place. I’m only still here because I didn’t have whatever it took to go all the way through with plans to end it. I really wanted to, and (at the time) considered myself a failure for not being able to.

Like you, I can’t point to any specific thing that explains why I’ve never succumbed to that level of desperation after that, but a series of different things seemed to contribute to my “recovery” from those all-consuming depressions I used to suffer. Medication did help then, and 12 Step recovery from addiction was also instrumental. But, no one thing. I’m just grateful I don’t go through it anymore, and compassionate towards those who do.