One of Eli’s closest friend’s took his life today. Eli found him. He is there with police and I am at home waiting, not really sure what it will be like when he opens the door. We’ve never been through anything like this before. A part of me wants Eli home now, and another part is dreading not knowing how to react.
I didn’t know Darius that well. I never knew his sadness. I only knew him when we got breakfast or hung out for birthdays on our front porch. He’s never seemed a dark person, not a hard person to get laughing. Eli knew deeper parts of Darius, but I don’t think he ever thought Darius would truly take his life. I am angry that I didn’t figure this out (I study this don’t I?) and I don’t want Eli to have been there. I want him to have stayed home tonight with me, or arrived earlier, much earlier.
I work with these kids who are nearly there, attempted to be there, and the hardest thing is to know that in some way they don’t mean it, and Darius didn’t mean it either. There’s an article in the NY Times about people who survived attempting suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate bridge. The journalist tracked down these survivors and they all had the same story–the feeling of wanting desperately to live on the way down–suddenly understanding that this is against our very genetics, our beliefs. It is anti-evolution and religion. Their soul kicked in at the last minute, and having survived, they didn’t attempt again. That’s the worst part of suicide. It happens at a point of maybe, uncertainty, apprehension, but too often there is no turning back. The indecision, is also suicide’s saving grace, it’s why it is considered a preventable disorder.
Recently, I have been plagued by people like Darius who have low lows, but are normally steady. It blows my mind that he could get that low when a couple of weeks ago we had breakfast together and laughed about wedding cakes. It’s intollerable to think that Eli was on the phone with him making plans, joking around at one this afternoon, and he was gone by the time Eli made it to Durham after work. What do you do when it’s not predictable, when they are there as usual and then gone.
I had a conversation with an adolescent over the phone, who already has suicide attempts on record. I asked how long the she had debated before each attempt, and she responded in a light adolescent tone, “Never more than a minute.†She went from not thinking about attempting to attempting in under a minute? This happy sounding kid on the other end of the phone in less than a minute could be gone.  What do you do when someone is there, and that possibility exists.
After this I will take all who have attempted, no matter how normal they may seem, much more seriously. Darius had attempted before. I don’t think he was on medication, and I don’t think he had a therapist. Darius, we as a society did not support you well enough. I should have known better. Even though I didn’t believe you would, I should have known better, read more, understood, and taken this moment in your life much more seriously. The past is the best predictor of the future, and this time you stepped across the boundary in an uncertain moment. I wish I had told you about the the Golden Gate bridge and how the girl on the phone made me terrified that you can loose someone so quickly. It would have been an awkward conversation from your friend’s girlfriend, but I still wish I had told you.
Eli and Darius at Locopops. Photography by Mark Schueler.
j said on July 3rd, 2009 at 11:04 pm:
Thank you for your honesty and for reminding all of us to pay closer attention to those we love, to those we know a bit, to those who’s paths we may cross at just the right moment to listen, to be present and to extend our care.
jake said on July 4th, 2009 at 2:41 am:
I also knew Darius although not too well. We worked together for a while at a restaurant in Durham. His girlfriend also worked there. When I heard about his suicide, I was shocked and I am still trying to process it. He was always upbeat with a great smile and an easy laugh. It breaks my heart to know that someone as sweet an genuine as Darius would feel so desperately alone that this was his only option. This is a very sad day and I know that everyone who came in contact with Darius feels the same way. The world needs more people like him. It makes me sad that now we have one fewer. Darius, I am sorry that I didn’t get to know you better and make a difference in your life. But, I am glad I got to know you at least a little bit.
Tami said on July 5th, 2009 at 12:19 pm:
It warms my heart to know that Darius had such wonderful friends. I did feel that I knew him well, and although I knew he was somewhat fragile, I believed him when he said he was going to be all right. I believed that he would do the little random domestic things he said he had planned for the day, his last one. I believed he would move forward from the setbacks he was experiencing and grow and change along with those of us who loved him. I wish he would have found the key in the wealth of support that he had to give him the strength to seek the help he needed. We were right across the street–I mourn that he didn’t walk over and lay his head on my shoulder, just one more time.
I will miss his easy smile, his adorable, irresistible pout, his voracious appetite at many a Sunday dinner, his odd, Darius-only accent, his silliness, his warm heart. I loved him like a son and will remember him all my days. I am enjoying discovering pictures and videos of him being just a fun kid with his friends. I am also enjoying meeting or getting to know his friends better, under such awful circumstances. He has enriched many a life and we are all fortunate to have known him.
Caitlin said on July 9th, 2009 at 1:19 am:
Hey.. i just found out.. Darius was my ex boyfriends older brother.. and i’m very lost right now i dont believe this! i just wanted to put out there that i’m so sorry for your loss.. and email me if you get this becuase id like to talk to you if you can, becuase this just seems so unreal.