David Schrader
30 mins ·
Suicide...a real story
Death be not proud...or, How Bruce Springsteen saved my life.
by Dave Schrader
The bitter sting of the gun oil bit into my tongue like a serpent. My finger squeezed the trigger slowly as my lips wrapped around the barrel of the pistol I had hidden in my room. I swallowed hard and SNAP, the gun fired....well, almost. The gun did everything it was supposed to do, except kill me. It fired as it was supposed to do only the bullet had not entered the chamber, I let out a gentle sob and readied myself for another try when the lights of my fathers car panned the room, I stopped, I couldnt let him hear the gun retort and die knowing that he would torture himself for life knowing he had been moments too late and had heard the fatal shot. So, I slipped the gun out of my mouth and placed it back in its case and hid it in my hide-a-bed couch again for safe keeping.
In the span of 30 days I had lost everything that I held near and dear, my girlfriend, the first real love of my life had lost our baby, my best friend had turned on me and took the rest of our gang with him, I felt broken and alone and though I had an overwhelming fear of death, the fear had subsided to make way for the pain and I wanted was for it to stop.
I turned to music to soothe my soul that night as I awaited another chance to end my pain. Only 17 and so sad, so lonely, so alone in MY pain....or so I thought. I can still hear the crackle of the stereo as it came to life, the gentle hum and pop of the headphones as the sound poured forth, there I was, alone in my room, in the basement of my parents home, in the dark the only light was that of the stereo when suddenly a song burst forth. It was a good song, fun to listen to, fun to dance to at the school dance and upbeat. Then the strangest thing happened, for the next hour as I rode the FM band I kept hearing the song repeat itself, its message slowly chipping away at my brain. Then it was as if a healing had occurred, right there in the basement of my childhood home the Lord spoke to me through the rusty voice of the singer of a pop tune, the scales fell away from my ears and for the first time I heard...and I understood. I was not alone, although my pain was my own, I was not the first nor would I be the last to feel it.
"Messages just keep getting clearer, radio's on and I'm moving 'round my place
I check my look in the mirror, I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
Man, I ain't getting nowhere, I'm just living in a dump like this
There's something happening somewhere, baby I just know that there is"
The raspy voice belongs to Bruce Springsteen, the song, Dancin' In The Dark. I heard a message in this song so cleverly disguised as mindless pop of the 80s. I heard a message of hope, of pain and of understanding that in fact I was not alone. If he was singing this and feeling that and was still around then there was hope for me.
"You can't start a fire sitting 'round cryin' over a broken heart
This gun's for hire even if we're just dancing in the dark
You can't start a fire worryin' about your little world fallin' apart
This gun's for hire even if we're just dancing in the dark"
I heard this song no less than 15 times in one hour. Bits a pieces on some stations, whole versions on others, but it was there drumming its message into my head like a jackhammer. I went out and bought every album I could of his music and I devoured it, every feeling, every emotion, good and bad, and there it was all wrapped in a vinyl package and spinning on my turntable. I heard someones pain and joy and I knew that I could survive the darkness I was dancin in. (Corny I know but it proves my point, at least to me. The words were meant for me to hear and they did not fall on deaf ears.)
I tell you that to tell you this. Suicide touches each of our lives at one point or another, we seem to all have had a time when it crosses our mind and sometimes we feel so desperate and alone and feel there is no one to call out to. No light at the end of our tunnel and we get so wrapped up in OUR pain that we forget that life has gone on for millenia before us and will likely continue after we are but a faint footnote in a family tree. Others have felt this pain and lived and so can we. I heard of the suicide of a young man I met last year, my sons age, and now he's gone. There was no deliverance for him like there was for me. But for those of you thinking about it now just know, there is truth in the words, "This too shall pass."
****************************************************************
Attitude is everything.
Be kinder than necessary,
for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly.
Your pal,
Darkness Dave
30 mins ·
Suicide...a real story
Death be not proud...or, How Bruce Springsteen saved my life.
by Dave Schrader
The bitter sting of the gun oil bit into my tongue like a serpent. My finger squeezed the trigger slowly as my lips wrapped around the barrel of the pistol I had hidden in my room. I swallowed hard and SNAP, the gun fired....well, almost. The gun did everything it was supposed to do, except kill me. It fired as it was supposed to do only the bullet had not entered the chamber, I let out a gentle sob and readied myself for another try when the lights of my fathers car panned the room, I stopped, I couldnt let him hear the gun retort and die knowing that he would torture himself for life knowing he had been moments too late and had heard the fatal shot. So, I slipped the gun out of my mouth and placed it back in its case and hid it in my hide-a-bed couch again for safe keeping.
In the span of 30 days I had lost everything that I held near and dear, my girlfriend, the first real love of my life had lost our baby, my best friend had turned on me and took the rest of our gang with him, I felt broken and alone and though I had an overwhelming fear of death, the fear had subsided to make way for the pain and I wanted was for it to stop.
I turned to music to soothe my soul that night as I awaited another chance to end my pain. Only 17 and so sad, so lonely, so alone in MY pain....or so I thought. I can still hear the crackle of the stereo as it came to life, the gentle hum and pop of the headphones as the sound poured forth, there I was, alone in my room, in the basement of my parents home, in the dark the only light was that of the stereo when suddenly a song burst forth. It was a good song, fun to listen to, fun to dance to at the school dance and upbeat. Then the strangest thing happened, for the next hour as I rode the FM band I kept hearing the song repeat itself, its message slowly chipping away at my brain. Then it was as if a healing had occurred, right there in the basement of my childhood home the Lord spoke to me through the rusty voice of the singer of a pop tune, the scales fell away from my ears and for the first time I heard...and I understood. I was not alone, although my pain was my own, I was not the first nor would I be the last to feel it.
"Messages just keep getting clearer, radio's on and I'm moving 'round my place
I check my look in the mirror, I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
Man, I ain't getting nowhere, I'm just living in a dump like this
There's something happening somewhere, baby I just know that there is"
The raspy voice belongs to Bruce Springsteen, the song, Dancin' In The Dark. I heard a message in this song so cleverly disguised as mindless pop of the 80s. I heard a message of hope, of pain and of understanding that in fact I was not alone. If he was singing this and feeling that and was still around then there was hope for me.
"You can't start a fire sitting 'round cryin' over a broken heart
This gun's for hire even if we're just dancing in the dark
You can't start a fire worryin' about your little world fallin' apart
This gun's for hire even if we're just dancing in the dark"
I heard this song no less than 15 times in one hour. Bits a pieces on some stations, whole versions on others, but it was there drumming its message into my head like a jackhammer. I went out and bought every album I could of his music and I devoured it, every feeling, every emotion, good and bad, and there it was all wrapped in a vinyl package and spinning on my turntable. I heard someones pain and joy and I knew that I could survive the darkness I was dancin in. (Corny I know but it proves my point, at least to me. The words were meant for me to hear and they did not fall on deaf ears.)
I tell you that to tell you this. Suicide touches each of our lives at one point or another, we seem to all have had a time when it crosses our mind and sometimes we feel so desperate and alone and feel there is no one to call out to. No light at the end of our tunnel and we get so wrapped up in OUR pain that we forget that life has gone on for millenia before us and will likely continue after we are but a faint footnote in a family tree. Others have felt this pain and lived and so can we. I heard of the suicide of a young man I met last year, my sons age, and now he's gone. There was no deliverance for him like there was for me. But for those of you thinking about it now just know, there is truth in the words, "This too shall pass."
****************************************************************
Attitude is everything.
Be kinder than necessary,
for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly.
Your pal,
Darkness Dave
