/lit/ - Literature

>>21964240
>According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, at least 90 percent of people who kill themselves suffer from a treatable and diagnosable mental illness. Anthony didn’t see a psychiatrist and was never diagnosed, but he displayed symptoms of any number of them. These diseases can be triggered by genetic makeup, by experience, by a life situation, by family dynamics dating back to early childhood.

>Not long after his death my mother asked me why Anthony couldn't just muddle through like the rest of us, why he was so fragile. It's the question all of us who loved Anthony have to live with, how such a capable person could be so wrong about the biggest question there is and so many smaller ones. His death is hard to understand and harder to forgive. It goes against the human instinct to make what use of our talents we can, to breed, to survive.

>Anthony understood this too. His whole life prepared him for work that unfolds over decades. He treated his body similarly. (My mother, when she confronted him dead on the hospital gurney, remembers thinking that he looked like a "Greek god.") “How could this kid be depressed when everything was working out?” Anna asked. Anthony must have wondered the same thing.

>The grief and guilt my family feels linger. For me, they pull more strongly than the memories. Anthony’s friends are building families and careers. My parents' suffering, in particular, has been unimaginable. But they cope and persevere. The April after Anthony died, Anna gave birth to their first grandchild. Anna and I push on, managing as we go. We are living things and it is in the struggle that we thrive.

>>18633540
>According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, at least 90 percent of people who kill themselves suffer from a treatable and diagnosable mental illness. Anthony didn’t see a psychiatrist and was never diagnosed, but he displayed symptoms of any number of them. These diseases can be triggered by genetic makeup, by experience, by a life situation, by family dynamics dating back to early childhood.

>Not long after his death my mother asked me why Anthony couldn't just muddle through like the rest of us, why he was so fragile. It's the question all of us who loved Anthony have to live with, how such a capable person could be so wrong about the biggest question there is and so many smaller ones. His death is hard to understand and harder to forgive. It goes against the human instinct to make what use of our talents we can, to breed, to survive.

>Anthony understood this too. His whole life prepared him for work that unfolds over decades. He treated his body similarly. (My mother, when she confronted him dead on the hospital gurney, remembers thinking that he looked like a "Greek god.") “How could this kid be depressed when everything was working out?” Anna asked. Anthony must have wondered the same thing.

>The grief and guilt my family feels linger. For me, they pull more strongly than the memories. Anthony’s friends are building families and careers. My parents' suffering, in particular, has been unimaginable. But they cope and persevere. The April after Anthony died, Anna gave birth to their first grandchild. Anna and I push on, managing as we go. We are living things and it is in the struggle that we thrive.

>According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, at least 90 percent of people who kill themselves suffer from a treatable and diagnosable mental illness. Anthony didn’t see a psychiatrist and was never diagnosed, but he displayed symptoms of any number of them. These diseases can be triggered by genetic makeup, by experience, by a life situation, by family dynamics dating back to early childhood.

>Not long after his death my mother asked me why Anthony couldn't just muddle through like the rest of us, why he was so fragile. It's the question all of us who loved Anthony have to live with, how such a capable person could be so wrong about the biggest question there is and so many smaller ones. His death is hard to understand and harder to forgive. It goes against the human instinct to make what use of our talents we can, to breed, to survive.

>Anthony understood this too. His whole life prepared him for work that unfolds over decades. He treated his body similarly. (My mother, when she confronted him dead on the hospital gurney, remembers thinking that he looked like a "Greek god.") “How could this kid be depressed when everything was working out?” Anna asked. Anthony must have wondered the same thing.

>The grief and guilt my family feels linger. For me, they pull more strongly than the memories. Anthony’s friends are building families and careers. My parents' suffering, in particular, has been unimaginable. But they cope and persevere. The April after Anthony died, Anna gave birth to their first grandchild. Anna and I push on, managing as we go. We are living things and it is in the struggle that we thrive.