suicide shame by gregory david roberts

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“on the sea wall, i felt the cool breeze wash across the skin of my face and chest like water poured from a clay matka. there was no sound but my own breath in the wind and the crash of deep water on the rocks, three metres below the wall. the waves, reaching up in splash and spin-drift, pulled at me. let go. let go. get it over with. just fall down and die. so easy. it wasn’t the loudest voice in my mind, but it came from one of the deepest sources – the shame that smothered my self-esteem. the shamed know that voice: you let everyone down. you don’t deserve to live. the world would be better off without you … and for all that i tried to belong, to heal myself with the work of the clinic, to save myself with the fool notion of being in love with karla, the truth was that i was alone in that shame, and lost.

“the sea surged and shoved at the rocks below. one push, and it would all be over. i could feel the fall, the crash as my body struck the rocks; the cold slipperiness of drowning death. so easy.

“a hand touched my shoulder. the grip was soft and gentle, but firm enough to hold me there. i turned quickly in shocked surprise. there was a tall, young man standing behind me. his hand remained on my shoulder as if to brace me there; as if he’d read my thoughts a few moments before.”

~ inspiration from ~ shantaram, by gregory david roberts, p. 181-182

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