I’ve only ever gotten very close to suicide once. I’ve thought about it more than once, mainly because the one time I got close made it a spiritual issue [as if it's not], and, well, I believe in spiritual warfare. Our weaknesses are exploited by the one who tempts.

This is one of mine, I guess.

The closest I came was in October of 1996. It was my senior year of high school. I knew where I’d be going to college [and I really did--I graduated five years later, having never changed my major]. I was in all the classes that I wanted to be. Things were going good.

Then they weren’t. I can’t even remember what it all was, but I know that two seminal events kicked it: the death of our longtime family pet, Buttons [hey, it was my brother who named her, not me!], and the death of a high school friend in a car accident. Those two events happened within, oh, a couple weeks of each other, and for whatever reason, they sent me into a spiral.

I did the typical “What is my place in this world, and where do I find strength?” bit. Of course, the funny thing is that my time at MSMS saw me go away from church almost completely, mainly in a desire to get some sleep sometime. One could draw some parallels to my recent situation, and I think they’d be fair.

I mean, what life is worth living if Christ is not in it?

Anyhow.

I have been listening lately to Over the Rhine a lot lately, if you haven’t noticed. After finally getting enough of a deep drink of Ohio to last me for a while, I finally delved into Good Dog, Bad Dog. It’s also just excellent.

Sonically, I quickly fell in love with “Poughkeepsie”. Then, this morning, I read the lyrics.

Poughkeepsie

I thought I’d go up Poughkeepsie,
look out o’er the Hudson,
and I’d throw my body down on the river.
And I’d know no more sorrow,
I’d fly like the sparrow
and I’d ride on the backs of the angels tonight.

I’d ride on the backs of the angels tonight.
I’d take to the sky with all my might.
No more drowning in my sorrow,
no more drowning in my fright,
I’d just ride on the backs of the angels tonight.

There are those who know sorrow
and those who must borrow
and those whose lot in life is sweet.
Well I’m drunk on self-pity,
scorned all that’s been given me,
I would drink from a bottle labeled Sure Defeat.

I’d ride on the backs of the angels tonight.
I’d take to the sky with all my might.
No more drowning in my sorrow,
no more drowning in my fright,
I’d just ride on the backs of the angels tonight.

Then the skies, they fell open
and my eyes were opened
to a world of hope falling at my feet.
Now I’ve no more or less
than anyone else has,
what I have is a gift of life I can’t repeat.

So I go up Poughkeepsie,
look out o’er the Hudson
and I cast my worries to the sky.
Now I still know sorrow,
but I can fly like the sparrow
’cause I ride on the backs of the angels tonight.

I ride on the backs of the angels tonight.
I take to the sky with all their might.
No more drowning in my sorrow,
no more drowning in my fright,
I’ll just ride on the backs of the angels each night.

That says it all. I am not drowning. I might just be treading water, but it’s not drowning. Not at all.