Teetering on the Edge of Life

How does one tie a rope around his head, and escape from the world of living, by jumping from a chair?

I can’t wrap my mind around this.  Literally.

Whenever I hear of someone who decides to end his life in this matter, I envision myself in his place.

Standing on a chair, securing the rope…

Heaving, as a shaky chair underneath holds trembling legs that go back and forth in fear, a little farther each time, before jumping from a short ledge to its drop from life.

How does one like Robin Williams (and the many other unrecognizable ones) get to this place of desperation?

This is not an easy way out of life.

And, may I suggest, there is not an easy answer to all-encompass every individual.

Oh, we who are not on the chair can offer unsolicited advice on the problems and explanations of said individuals who are obviously without hope.

But, may I suggest our opinions, without our compassion, only create a tighter noose?


I went back and forth whether to write from the depths of my heart.  In the end, I thought, what do I have to lose?

My paper-doll image being crumbled?

Actually, what do I have to gain?

Maybe access into a life out there who is desperate.  And alone.

Let’s face it, majority of us are not ever going to be in the place of standing on a chair, teetering on the edge, leaning toward death.

Even so, what if we teeter on the edge and lean in toward transparency?

I’d say this lack of vulnerability has created a chokehold of its own on our freedom to be real when real life is crumbling apart.

Tied up in knots on how I should be, I clean off the debris so my attire is no longer disheveled.


Well, enough already.

Choking back tears creates a chokehold around our hearts.

Truth is, I have desired on occasion for the end to come.  While I have not stood on a chair, I have felt the grip of despair pull me in.

Surround me with suggestions of suicide.

And, in my momentary weakness, I have felt alone.  And entirely too close to the edge of desiring death.

Maybe this is where we get to the end of our rope.  When desperation takes hold in a difficult season, and we feel we have nowhere else to turn.

In the moment when we cannot see clearly it is just a momentary trial.

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)

We need to wrap our minds around Christ.  Literally.

And lean in closer and closer.

Until we free-fall into His embrace.

It is not an easy answer.  But, may I suggest, HE is the HOPE we need to take hold of when we are at the end of our rope.


When Laughter Does Not Cover the Pain

She accompanies me everywhere, lurking in the dark, waiting to attack, often without warning.  Uninvited–strangling my demeanor in an attempt to bring me down to her level.

She is relentless in her pursuit.

She, being depression.

A family member once callously dismissed my downstate since I had a nice house, a good family, and of course, money in the bank.

If it were only so easy to make it go away, she would be gone already.

So I smile.  And attempt to make others smile.  But, smiling can be exhausting.  So when I heard yesterday about Robin Williams giving up the fight to smile–a man who committed his life to making our lives less dismal, it was disheartening.

Yet, sadly, I understand.

Sometimes the heaviness covers me like a blanket, and I want to crawl underneath and go to sleep.

Especially, since as of late, my arsenal which is on hand to battle her firm grasp works as well as my mosquito repellent, which is hardly at all.  It makes me wonder how long I can fight myself.

Yesterday, for example, I used up all my resources:

Crying out to Jesus 

Reading through the Bible



Phone conversations with friends

Worship music

Starbucks to write an encouraging post


Even working my new job doing all the things I love to do.  

Still, her weight won’t let up.  

Panic set in right about the time I heard about the news of his death.

Where do I turn?  

What do I do?  

I think it is time to get some help.  A friend suggested it the other day, and I told her I would.  But today, when she gently asked if I made an appointment, I told her no.

I am not sure why.  Maybe because I feel the shame of not being able to climb out of the dark hole, being one who is supposed to be full of the light.  What kind of witness is this?

Actually, what kind of witness will I be if I end up six-feet under as a result of my refusal to seek help?

So, today I will make a call and see what happens next.

The fight is not over.  Not until I leave this life. My hope is I leave on HIS terms, and not on my own.

Robin Williams you will be missed.

Every person who desires to give up, please hear my words:

Tomorrow is another day.  Don’t give up the fight.