So, it’s the 6th of April.
I woke up thinking about what to write and mentally planning a blog in my head about David’s suicide. I thought for a few hours that I could write about what happened seven years ago, but, eventually I realized that I would have to really think about what happened and write, in detail, about how I found out and all the events that followed. It’s bad enough that I still think about it every day, but to actually write it out might be a bit much for me right now. I know, it’s been like forever since his death, but I still don’t think I have the ability to think about it hard enough to write it all out.
Instead of writing it all out today, on the seven year anniversary, I think I’ll work on it a little at a time for a while, spread it out, so it’s not one giant endeavor that I put myself through all at one time. I think that might work out better and might, hopefully, save my sanity and my emotional state.
After I decided that I couldn’t write about the actual events of the suicide, I thought maybe I could write about the songs that I kept playing through the experience, but, when I tried to listen to one of the songs, I just couldn’t. It’s so hypocritical. I want so much to cry, but I run away from those things that might make me cry. I also decided that crying tickles and I hate being tickled. Maybe that has something to do with it.
So, ultimately, as you can see, I decided to write about my inability to write about the suicide. Maybe in the next few days, after I get past the anniversary I’ll be able to write about the suicide itself, and the experiences that I went through during that time, or maybe just the songs that guided me through it. Maybe I’ll post pictures of the tattoo I got to commemorate the experience, or maybe I just won’t mention it again until next year.
One thing for sure is that this year has been harder than previous years, and I think a lot of that has to do with the time I have for contemplation and my awareness of the current date. In other years, April 6 has been able to slip by me without me noticing, or hurting, too much. But this year, knowing what day it is has been unavoidable.
Lastly, I’d just like to say,
David Lee Smith
March 11, 1984
April 6, 2000