My dad passed away from MS a couple years ago. That is a horrific disease. He went from an athletic healthy man to a pile of flesh on a bed. It took 30 years and every year he lost more ground.
I never heard him contemplated ending his life. He knew what was coming and he knew it was always going to get worse.
I have talked to a lot of people who said they would have taken the easy way out. But I can tell you, even though it was very painful and full of suffering, the life he lived was worth it. Being part of that life, suffering, pain and sadness was worth it to me and every one in my family will tell you the same.
It took a lot of courage and humility for a star athlete like him to be reduced to being carried around and tended like a plant. It was hard for us, his kids and his wife to see that happen and have to take care of him. But he never stopped bringing us joy.
What he taught me is something I can't even convey properly. How can I fail to act because it would be uncomfortable or difficult. How can I quit or walk away if I am not getting what I want. Nothing he got was what he wanted, but he never quit or gave up.
I do understand that depression and mental illness changes the way you think. But if suicide seems like a good idea, you have a big problem and need to get that addressed real fast. Life is way to short to be stuck in your own head.
My dad was stuck in his own body and by its limitations. But that never made him quit. He did not go quietly into that good night. He went with honor and dignity.
For Junior Seau, I can understand his despair. One of the symptoms of having repeated concussions is clinical depression. On top of that is the knowledge that everything that makes you who you are is slowly melting away. Not physically, but every experience, every memory, even the ability to think is draining out of your mind leaving nothing behind. That alone would be enough to cause despair without the clinical component. But together, it is pretty overwhelming.
I can understand how bad it would be to loose everything physically and I think I could handle that. But to lose who you are, the memories of your family, the glory you attained in professional sports that you can't even remember now. The teammates that you shared so much with that you can't even recall. Even the ability to understand what you are going through will slip away eventually. Leaving a hollow shell of what used to be a great man.
I think that I would chicken out of that.
I want to go out like my Grandpa did. Peacefully in his sleep.
Not screaming in terror like his passengers.