Sometimes I’m thick-headed.
Sometimes I have to be taught a lesson multiple times.
Those lessons can be painful.
Lessons like, “Get to know someone really well before deciding to marry them.”
Or, “Don’t have sex with someone you’re not married to.”
I think I’ve finally learned those lessons now.
I hope so. They’ve come at a high price.
I’ve known people who have committed suicide.
I know many people who have had loved ones commit suicide.
This is for them. And anyone else who’s lost someone to suicide.
A lot of religions teach that anyone who commits suicide automatically goes to hell.
I don’t believe that.
These are just my personal beliefs. They are not the official position of the Church.
The God of the Universe is our Heavenly Father.
He loves us more than we can comprehend.
He knows us better than we can imagine.
He can’t ignore the wrong things we do.
But he is as kind and merciful as he can be.
Most people don’t commit suicide maliciously.
They’re hurting. They don’t believe they’re going to stop hurting.
They don’t see another way out.
I’m not saying they’re right. There’s always a way out. Sometimes the only way out is through.
I’m just saying they did what they thought they had to do.
Condemning others is not our responsibility. Nor is it our privilege.
Judgment belongs only to One.
That’s not you.
It’s not me either.
I thank God for that.
Advice is ultimately autobiography. Don’t listen to people where the advice is coming from a pedestal. That’s how snake oil is created.
– James Altucher
He’s younger than me. Even more foolish.
He hasn’t made the same bad choices. Not yet.
Maybe he won’t with some helpful advice.
Or some scare tactics.
He’s me. But younger.
Maybe he’s you, too.
I can’t un-choose my bad choices.
But maybe you can make better ones.
Maybe you can learn what I learned.
Without the pain.
Last night my wife said something to me. It upset me.
I thought of a response.
I wasn’t going to say it. But rather than just keeping quiet, I said, “I won’t say it.”
She wasn’t going to let it go. I knew she wouldn’t.
After she prodded me I told her what it was.
I knew it would hurt her. I underestimated how much.
I instantly regretted telling her.
I think she’s still hurting today.
I wish I could take it back.
But I can’t.