I wonder why you clicked on this post? What is so fascinating about the word “suicide” that made you want to read about it? Well here is the truth: there is more than one way to die. I know your thinking, “of course there is more than one way to die.” I’m not talking about your heart stopping; I’m talking about your soul dying, you dying as a person. Everyone knows the cliché, “a fate worse than death,” yet, I think, no one really puts much thought into what that really means. Maybe this is it.

Why are you doing what you are doing? Why are you staring at your screen? Why do you have the time? Why do you have a screen? I like the last question. How did you get the computer/tablet/smart phone that you are using to read this? I assume a job. What job? Do you like that job? I mean really, is this what you want to be doing for the rest of your life? Is this you? Are you happy working where you are? If you answered “no” to any of the last four questions, then you are dead. Congratulations.

Do you desire more? I would assume so. What is holding you back? Fear? Probably. What type of fear? Fear of the unknown? Fear of failure? Fear of being alone? Tell me, what is worse: fear or killing yourself? Because if you stay where you are, you are killing yourself. You are going to die by what I guarantee you is a fate worse than death: Walking around each day knowing that you have killed yourself, that there is more to life and you choose to let it escape.

I’m done bashing you. I’m in the same place. Well, maybe; maybe not for long. I just finished my first year of college. My last term was 21 quarter hours. It was torture. I did nothing but homework. I didn’t write, hardly climbed, barely biked; I read books and did math homework. That is bullshit. That’s a horrible way to live and a really shitty way to die. Every day I woke up and looked at the pictures of Half Dome and Mt. Whitney hanging on my walls; every time I grabbed a pair of socks, I saw my harness, chalk, and climbing shoes; every time I opened my computer, I saw the mountains posed as my background. I keep my green writing journal in my book bag just in case I have an epiphany – I never did.

Now it’s the end of July, what do I have to say for my summer? I went climbing at Smith Rocks…once. I biked a couple of times at the local State Park. I started a training routine. Why I don’t know, it’s not like I’m climbing hard or have the option to. I decided to put my big girl panties on and get some shit done. I’m going on a climbing trip to Canada.

I’m tired of not getting things done. I’m tired of being weak and only wanting to climb hard or bike hard. I need to climb hard and I need to bike hard. So I am going to Squamish for six days. I’m going to forget the fact that school will be starting three weeks after and that I could very well be stuck in my home for eleven weeks with my eyes glued to books. I’m going to forget everything I fear and everything that I regret; I am going to climb. I am going to live. Maybe we should all do the same.


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