Knowledge Is Marvelous, But Wisdom Is Even

Every Seventeen Minutes In America, Someone Commits Suicide. Mostly, I Have Been Impressed By How Little Value Our Society Puts On Saving The Lives Of Those Who Are In Such Despair As To Want To End Them. It Is A Societal Illusion That Suicide Is Rare. It Is Not.

It Is Tempting When Looking At The Life Of Anyone Who Has Committed Suicide To Read Into The Decision To Die A Vastly Complex Web Of Reasons; And, Of Course, Such Complexity Is Warranted. No One Illness Or Event Causes Suicide; And Certainly No One Knows All, Or Perhaps Even Most, Of The Motivations Behind The Killing Of The Self. But Psychopathology Is Almost Always There, And Its Deadliness Is Fierce. Love, Success, And Friendship Are Not Always Enough To Counter The Pain And Destructiveness Of Severe Mental Illness

The Pursuit Of Knowledge Is An Intoxicant, A Lure That Scientists And Explorers Have Known From Ancient Times; Indeed, Exhilaration In The Pursuit Of Knowledge Is Part Of What Has Kept Our Species So Adaptive.

Somehow, Like So Many People Who Get Depressed, We Felt Our Depressions Were More Complicated And Existentially Based Than They Actually Were.

It Took Me Far Too Long To Realize That Lost Years And Relationships Cannot Be Recovered. That Damage Done To Oneself And Others Cannot Always Be Put Right Again.