Someone commits suicide, so you trash talk them

...how very unChristian of you.  

I'm not talking about the issue of euthanasia here and anyone's "right" to "legally" kill themselves. 

I'm talking about common decency for the dead person's grieving families who had no idea this was going to happen. And that mental illness hits people of all types. 

Catholic hot-shot Bill Donohue from Catholic League writes: 
"If Anthony Bourdain had been a religious man, would he have killed himself? Probably not. The celebrity chef was found dead today in his hotel room in Strasbourg, France."

Atheists put their hope in science and medicine and when that fails they feel hopeless. For people who don't know God...it is all too easy to fall into despair when you are suffering depression or other mental illnesses with no hope, no knowledge of God. 

Yet mental illness kills religious and non-religious alike.

Researcher Ning Hsieh, funded by the National Institute of Health, released a report based on data from 42 countries in seven regions, and found the following... 

Quote: "...although religion is linked to lower suicide rates in Latin America, eastern Europe, northern Europe, and English-speaking countries, it is associated with higher suicide rates in East Asia, western Europe and southern Europe.
According to the study, evidence that religion protects against suicide is strongest in Latin America, where a one percent increase in religious participation is associated with 3 percent decrease in suicide rates."

Whatever you think of the person who committed suicide...how about some compassion for their families and friends trying to cope with the sudden loss of their loved one?

Where has compassion and come decency to not speak ill of the dead (especially when the body is still warm) gone?

Donohue wasn't the only one showing a cold heart to the deceased family, David Leavitt (a generally nasty person on any given day) stormed Twitter with his unkind thoughts upon the death of Bourdain (clearly these two never liked each other, but one is dead and the other can't refrain from attacking a dead man). 

What the hell is wrong with people? A person, doesn't matter who they are, commits suicide and people trash talk them with ZERO thought for their grieving families left behind. 

The sudden death of a loved one is gutting to families. You can't wrap your head around it and the very last thing you need are people like Donohue and Leavitt sitting in judgment of your deceased loved one. You're probably already worrying about their souls. What you need are prayers and support to get through this tragic time. Suicide is a tragedy. 

These dim-witted men sit in judgment of the deceased as if they know what mental illness Bourdain may or may not have been suffering to do such a horrible thing. 

And since Leavitt mentioned "purgatory" in his tweet, I should share the Catholic Church's thoughts on suicide.  

Catholic Catechism #2282 If suicide is committed with the intention of setting an example, especially to the young, it also takes on the gravity of scandal. Voluntary co-operation in suicide is contrary to the moral law.Grave psychological disturbances, anguish, or grave fear of hardship, suffering, or torture can diminish the responsibility of the one committing suicide.

Catholic Catechism #2283 We should not despair of the eternal salvation of persons who have taken their own lives. By ways known to him alone, God can provide the opportunity for salutary repentance. The Church prays for persons who have taken their own lives.

Can't we just PRAY for the dead and their suffering families? 

Would that really be too much to ask for in today's society?



In Christ, 

Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner 

***To be clear, I've never watched a show with Anthony Bourdain in it, but I have seen commercials for his shows over the years. I don't really know anything about this man, my point in writing this was mostly about compassion for his family and friends who are grieving now. 


Links: 

https://twitter.com/David_Leavitt 

https://www.catholicleague.org/would-religion-have-saved-bourdain/

http://dc.medill.northwestern.edu/blog/2017/07/05/new-study-suggests-religion-affects-suicide-rates-differently-around-the-  world/#sthash.9evBo1m2.dpbs  

Do you know who this woman is?

Sometimes I find the most interesting things on Craigslist, today is one of those times.  

A Vietnam Vet who was moments away from taking his life ran into a stranger who changed everything for him.  

As quickly as this woman entered his life, she disappeared and now, decades later, he's still wondering about her and looking to find her to tell her how she saved his life. 


Maybe one of my readers can help...

 I met you in the rain on the last day of 1972 - m4w

I met you in the rain on the last day of 1972, the same day I resolved to kill myself.

One week prior, at the behest of Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger, I'd flown four B-52 sorties over Hanoi. I dropped forty-eight bombs. How many homes I destroyed, how many lives I ended, I'll never know. But in the eyes of my superiors, I had served my country honorably, and I was thusly discharged with such distinction.

 And so on the morning of that New Year's Eve, I found myself in a barren studio apartment on Beacon and Hereford with a fifth of Tennessee rye and the pang of shame permeating the recesses of my soul. When the bottle was empty, I made for the door and vowed, upon returning, that I would retrieve the Smith & Wesson Model 15 from the closet and give myself the discharge I deserved.  

I walked for hours. I looped around the Fenway before snaking back past Symphony Hall and up to Trinity Church. Then I roamed through the Common, scaled the hill with its golden dome, and meandered into that charming labyrinth divided by Hanover Street. By the time I reached the waterfront, a charcoal sky had opened and a drizzle became a shower. That shower soon gave way to a deluge. While the other pedestrians darted for awnings and lobbies, I trudged into the rain. I suppose I thought, or rather hoped, that it might wash away the patina of guilt that had coagulated around my heart. It didn't, of course, so I started back to the apartment.  

 And then I saw you.

You'd taken shelter under the balcony of the Old State House. You were wearing a teal ball gown, which appeared to me both regal and ridiculous. Your brown hair was matted to the right side of your face, and a galaxy of freckles dusted your shoulders. I'd never seen anything so beautiful.  

 When I joined you under the balcony, you looked at me with your big green eyes, and I could tell that you'd been crying. I asked if you were okay. You said you'd been better. I asked if you'd like to have a cup of coffee. You said only if I would join you. Before I could smile, you snatched my hand and led me on a dash through Downtown Crossing and into Neisner's.

We sat at the counter of that five and dime and talked like old friends. We laughed as easily as we lamented, and you confessed over pecan pie that you were engaged to a man you didn't love, a banker from some line of Boston nobility. A Cabot, or maybe a Chaffee. Either way, his parents were hosting a soirée to ring in the New Year, hence the dress.  

 For my part, I shared more of myself than I could have imagined possible at that time. I didn't mention Vietnam, but I got the sense that you could see there was a war waging inside me. Still, your eyes offered no pity, and I loved you for it.

After an hour or so, I excused myself to use the restroom. I remember consulting my reflection in the mirror. Wondering if I should kiss you, if I should tell you what I'd done from the cockpit of that bomber a week before, if I should return to the Smith & Wesson that waited for me. I decided, ultimately, that I was unworthy of the resuscitation this stranger in the teal ball gown had given me, and to turn my back on such sweet serendipity would be the real disgrace.  

 On the way back to the counter, my heart thumped in my chest like an angry judge's gavel, and a future -- our future -- flickered in my mind. But when I reached the stools, you were gone. No phone number. No note. Nothing.

As strangely as our union had begun, so too had it ended. I was devastated. I went back to Neisner's every day for a year, but I never saw you again. Ironically, the torture of your abandonment seemed to swallow my self-loathing, and the prospect of suicide was suddenly less appealing than the prospect of discovering what had happened in that restaurant. The truth is I never really stopped wondering.  

I'm an old man now, and only recently did I recount this story to someone for the first time, a friend from the VFW. He suggested I look for you on Facebook. I told him I didn't know anything about Facebook, and all I knew about you was your first name and that you had lived in Boston once. And even if by some miracle I happened upon your profile, I'm not sure I would recognize you. Time is cruel that way.

This same friend has a particularly sentimental daughter. She's the one who led me here to Craigslist and these Missed Connections. But as I cast this virtual coin into the wishing well of the cosmos, it occurs to me, after a million what-ifs and a lifetime of lost sleep, that our connection wasn't missed at all.You see, in these intervening forty-two years I've lived a good life. I've loved a good woman. I've raised a good man. I've seen the world. And I've forgiven myself. And you were the source of all of it. You breathed your spirit into my lungs one rainy afternoon, and you can't possibly imagine my gratitude.  

 I have hard days, too. My wife passed four years ago. My son, the year after. I cry a lot. Sometimes from the loneliness, sometimes I don't know why. Sometimes I can still smell the smoke over Hanoi. And then, a few dozen times a year, I'll receive a gift. The sky will glower, and the clouds will hide the sun, and the rain will begin to fall. And I'll remember.

So wherever you've been, wherever you are, and wherever you're going, know this: you're with me still.

Source: http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/5237173491.html

In Christ and hoping this Vet finds who he's looking for,

Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner 

#RIPBella trending on Twitter

By Connecticut Catholic Corner


Twitter is ERUPTING right now with what is apparently (I desperately hope its a hoax) a teen suicide.

The hashtag #RIPBella is being used to share the final words of a girl before she committed suicide.

As I already said, I DESPERATELY hope this is merely a hoax and not the horrible tragedy it appears to be.

How absolutely TRAGIC for ANY human being - especially a child- to feel like NOTHING.  This person found no value in herself because she never felt loved by others.

That is UNACCEPTABLE!

No one, absolutely NO ONE should ever feel so alone, unloved and unwanted.

It's an absolute tragedy.

The other tragedy with teen suicide is GLORIFYING IT.

@1000Girlfriends is correct.  This is NOT a happy ending.  Unfortunately too many teens (and adults) don't grasp that and have taken to glorifying the tragedy as some romantic gesture.

What a mess our society is when they don't see the value in human life.  What a sad thing to chalk off a suicide as "she is in a better place now".  She was supposed to be HERE now and she's not.

Whether or not this is a true suicide, it does truly depict the loneliness and hopelessness so many people feel.  We as a society HAVE to let people know they ARE loved and that we DO care about them.

When someone commits suicide they are leaving a VOID - a void that was supposed to filled by them for their entire NATURAL life.  That void can never be filled because no one can take the place of the person who committed suicide.

No one should feel unloved and unwanted- no one.

RIP Bella

I pray to God this is a hoax.


In Christ,

Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner