Isn't it always a sonuvabitch,
When someone takes the wind out of your sails?

My uncle hung himself in twenty-sixteen.
At that time I had been thinking about suicide
For maybe three or four years,
And when I had heard that he went and actually did it
I remember feeling so irritated.
I remember thinking that he stole my thunder,
He went and crowned himself the selfish King
And I was left being the Prince of ******* nothing.

Suicide had been my fall back for awhile,
It offered me a certainty that I couldn't find
In my day to day life.
It offered me a sense of control.
When I couldn't sleep at night
I could just remind myself that
No matter how bad things seemed,
Or how massively I ****** up my life,
That I always had a way out.
I always had that escape hatch.
It was calming imagining the cold circle of a barrel
Pressed into the roof of my mouth,
It soothed my existential dread and
It gave me a swaggering confidence
That I wore like a cloak of indifference.
Nothing mattered,
I didn't give a **** about anything.

When Mike hung himself I spent the following weeks
Living with my Aunt, and my two cousins.
A new widow, and her children.
I lived there and helped her make funeral plans,
I helped in any way that I could,
And I watched the aftermath unfold
Like an emotional tidal wave.

I used to think about commiting suicide
To help me fall asleep.
Now I just think about my family,
How much I love them and
How much they love me.
I sleep like a baby.