After the events on Tuesday, I was grateful for distractions. School work, drill practice, club meetings. If there was anything I could do to take my mind away from everything important, I accepted it. I even forced myself to watch sitcoms (Big Bang Theory and Boy Meets World) just to force some humor, some false joy, into my life.
I walk around campus, and I keep seeing all these people having fun, living life. And I hate them. I don’t even know them. I hate them because I am appalled that somebody could be having a good time when such a tragedy has occurred, even though I know they probably never knew him, so even if they knew it would not affect them. I hate them because I am jealous that they get to go about living their same old lives, nary a care in the world, but I have to feel this overbearing pain weighing on my very soul. I hate them because they remind me of what I used to be like.
But today for our ROTC lab, a counselor from student services came by. She gave her formal speech about what student services does and whatnot, but afterward so held an informal session for anyone who wanted to talk about things. So I went. I didn’t end up saying anything. I know I need to talk about things, but I can’t think of anything to say. All I get is a few sentence fragments, dangling at the end because I don’t know how to finish them. I am not at a loss for words very often, and this scares me.
I love comic books – superheroes especially. A while ago I found two instances in Superman comics about him saving a suicide jumper. I looked it up again, and it struck an emotional chord. Here are the links: Superman Saves Suicidal Girl and All-Star Superman on World Suicide Prevention Day. I had to share it. A lot of people I know talk crap about Superman, but these scenes are truly beautiful.