Two Hundred Fifty
by Ann Bogle
Sometimes I think we are in it all together, responsible to each other and for what happens to one another. We can prevent suicides. Other times I think this thinking is jaded, that having strange longings for world peace is unjustified. Happier and more optimistic people than I feel we are not in it for peace, not responsible for war or suicide. One million people die every year at their own hand, the hand that swallows the pills or plies a knife or loops a noose or turns on the gas. It amounts to more deaths than homicide and war combined. For every person who dies alone that way, another twenty try. An attempt that leads to death is called “completed.” I think it affects rent. The dead guy is not the bad guy, the only bad guy in a serene film about beauty, the living not the good guys on a team that wins at war. He is in his own category. He carries a name or label. He has a “profile” under law. In China it's women. Some people are against fear. I am more against hate than against love. Someone will try to tell you that love is a sickness. Someone is always diagnosing.
I walked and then I ran. I was in the woods on a paved path and couldn't tell how long a block was: I just ran from tree to tree, blue racing line to blue racing line, thinking of kilometers.
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Author's Note
On the 52/250 theme for September 5, "We are not responsible."
Other stories by Ann Bogle
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Powerful stuff to be thinking about while walking/running.
Made me think.
If this works it works as some kind of unarticulated chaotic feeling - due in part to the numerous pronouns which seem to contradict each other. So the meaning cannot really escape into clarity. Have to assume it's your intention. Some things are so unable to struggle against injustice that they simply speak for the reality that is. Your 'I' running aimlessly speaks out for that feeling.
One thing I question is the proportion 50,000:1. That seems extreme, even as hyperbole.
I guess if you count those who try to drink or dose themselves to death, subconsciously, purposefully, whatever, that proportion might be right.
The chaos works for me, and until I sit down to write, what you've written sounds strangely like the process of me own thought. Chaos ... with a plan in there somewhere.
I liked this.
The source for the story is the UN website, World Health Organization, ca. 2007. For every death, 50,000 attempts. I suppose that may not mean 50,000 individuals.
I wrote this to exorcise two recent accidental, or not so accidental, early deaths. Early death and suicide change relations. What do we say or do now? What is the arc or trajectory of the loss?
I underwent hypnosis in '95. The therapist read a statement as interesting as a toaster manual, and I launched into a technicolor vision for an hour, four times. I wonder if this piece can be read to launch creative writing.
Thanks for reading.
"Early death and suicide change relations. What do we say or do now? What is the arc or trajectory of the loss?"
Beautifully said. Add to your piece?
"Someone is always diagnosing."
Great line.
"I walked and then I ran. I was in the woods on a paved path and couldn't tell how long a block was: I just ran from tree to tree, blue racing line to blue racing line, thinking of kilometers."
Make this a refrain? Sandwich the long paragraph? Begin and end with it? Just a thought.
Great piece, Ann. I like the form and tone - Especially like the closing paragraph.
Bill, I like your ideas for revising this. Thanks, both.
http://www.who.int/mediacentre/events/annual/world_suicide_prevention_day/en/
I tried to relocate the United Nations World Health Organization statistic I remembered reading before and found this statistic instead: for every completed suicide, at least twenty or up to twenty attempts.
"Someone is always diagnosing."
Yeah, huh? Great piece.
Sally, that line has stuck with a few people, where it lands. Essays I tried to write about what that line says failed.