Crying Wolf
I want to start off with a little story. Once upon a time there was a boy who was called upon to watch the village sheep. He was instructed to shout as loud as he could if he saw a wolf, and help would come as fast as possible from the villagers on the nearby road.
One day, he stood on a hilltop, watching the sheep graze with nothing to do. He thought he'd test his ability to call for help on an old woman carrying water back to the village from a nearby well.
"Wolf, Wolf!" he cried.
The woman quickly dropped her water pails and ran up the hillside. As she reached the top, she found the shepherd boy rolling on the ground laughing.
She shook a finger at him soundly, "You mark my words, you'll regret this one day boy." and she walked away in a huff to refill her spilled buckets.
The next day the boy was very lonely. He was having a rough time at home with his family and wanted someone to talk to about it. He saw a big man pulling a heavy cart of firewood to sell in the village.
"Wolf, wolf!" the boy cried.
The man quickly grabbed a large branch as a club and ran up the hillside. As he reached the top, the boy sat there, looking sad.
"Well, boy, where is the wolf?"
"Oh, there is no wolf. I just wanted someone to talk to."
"Just you wait, boy, you'll be sorry for this." The man's face grew red, and he stormed away in a huff, going back to his cart.
The days passed langorously for the shepherd boy. His only entertainment was crying "Wolf, wolf!" whenever he saw a passerby.
Then one day the boy sat, bored and hot on the shilltop. Suddenly, the biggest wolf he had ever seen came ambling up the hillside. He saw the woman with the water buckets walking by again and cried in desperation, "Wolf, WOLF!"
The woman looked up at him and turned her nose up in disgust when she saw who it was.
The boy turned around and saw the wolf killing the sheep, one by one. He desperately glanced about again, and saw the big man with the cart, surely HE would help!
"Wolf, wolf, WOLF!" he shouted.
The man rolled his eyes in disgust and started away.
It was all over. Every one of the sheep were dead. The boy solemnly walked to the mayors office to report the bad news.
"I was afraid this would happen here too."
The boy was confused. "Here too, sir?"
The mayor glanced up. "Why yes, son. Wolves have eaten every herd for three towns around us. There was always help nearby, but nobody would stop, because on one hilltop, everyone had trusted too many times."
The boy didn't realize it wasn't only his herd he was putting at risk, but the herd of any shepherd who might suffer a wolf nearby.
Sorry for the long story, but I needed it to illustrate my point. I hear a word growing more and more trendy by the day. It is a dangerous word, a stupid and pointless word, but it seems to be spreading like a cancer. The word is suicide. I think in the past few weeks I've heard people talking about killing themselves as often as not.
When you do this, you are putting the lives of others at risk, and I'm not exaggerating. When you treat suicide like an everyday, common thing, it becomes laughable. You won't laugh when it's someone close to you lying in that coffin.
Recently I've had one conversation I consider an acceptable one on suicide. I must have had 20-30 discussions on the topic recently, and one was appropriate, because it was discussing the challenges of getting out of that frame of mind, and handled in a very serious tone. This is unacceptable.
No boy or girl is worth it, no lost scholarship/grade should cost it, and no goal you can't achieve will pay for it. You get one life to live. Death is a word too far removed from us. It isn't real like it was to our grandparents. We don't really believe that suicide will kill us because of how many survival stories we hear. I hate to tell you this, but the only one's who can tell you the non-survivor stories are the friends and loved ones left behind, and usually they don't talk about it. But I know for a fact it isn't trendy to them.
I'm afraid for my fellows. What happens when comes the day you actually DO consider it? What happens when I blow you off because you've joked about it so many times before. Or worse yet, what happens when I blow someone ELSE off that I might've helped because of how you treated it?
This isn't funny. It's not good. It isn't a cry for help. It's not a buzzword to get attention and support.
If you are considering suicide, please get help. It isn't the answer. I'm sorry if people laugh at you when you try to talk about it. That's what attention getters aren't realizing. They don't realize they could be costing you your life.
So stop it. Stop joking, stop using it to get my attention.
It's calling 911 without an emergency.
It's a cry of Wolf without a predator.
One day, he stood on a hilltop, watching the sheep graze with nothing to do. He thought he'd test his ability to call for help on an old woman carrying water back to the village from a nearby well.
"Wolf, Wolf!" he cried.
The woman quickly dropped her water pails and ran up the hillside. As she reached the top, she found the shepherd boy rolling on the ground laughing.
She shook a finger at him soundly, "You mark my words, you'll regret this one day boy." and she walked away in a huff to refill her spilled buckets.
The next day the boy was very lonely. He was having a rough time at home with his family and wanted someone to talk to about it. He saw a big man pulling a heavy cart of firewood to sell in the village.
"Wolf, wolf!" the boy cried.
The man quickly grabbed a large branch as a club and ran up the hillside. As he reached the top, the boy sat there, looking sad.
"Well, boy, where is the wolf?"
"Oh, there is no wolf. I just wanted someone to talk to."
"Just you wait, boy, you'll be sorry for this." The man's face grew red, and he stormed away in a huff, going back to his cart.
The days passed langorously for the shepherd boy. His only entertainment was crying "Wolf, wolf!" whenever he saw a passerby.
Then one day the boy sat, bored and hot on the shilltop. Suddenly, the biggest wolf he had ever seen came ambling up the hillside. He saw the woman with the water buckets walking by again and cried in desperation, "Wolf, WOLF!"
The woman looked up at him and turned her nose up in disgust when she saw who it was.
The boy turned around and saw the wolf killing the sheep, one by one. He desperately glanced about again, and saw the big man with the cart, surely HE would help!
"Wolf, wolf, WOLF!" he shouted.
The man rolled his eyes in disgust and started away.
It was all over. Every one of the sheep were dead. The boy solemnly walked to the mayors office to report the bad news.
"I was afraid this would happen here too."
The boy was confused. "Here too, sir?"
The mayor glanced up. "Why yes, son. Wolves have eaten every herd for three towns around us. There was always help nearby, but nobody would stop, because on one hilltop, everyone had trusted too many times."
The boy didn't realize it wasn't only his herd he was putting at risk, but the herd of any shepherd who might suffer a wolf nearby.
Sorry for the long story, but I needed it to illustrate my point. I hear a word growing more and more trendy by the day. It is a dangerous word, a stupid and pointless word, but it seems to be spreading like a cancer. The word is suicide. I think in the past few weeks I've heard people talking about killing themselves as often as not.
When you do this, you are putting the lives of others at risk, and I'm not exaggerating. When you treat suicide like an everyday, common thing, it becomes laughable. You won't laugh when it's someone close to you lying in that coffin.
Recently I've had one conversation I consider an acceptable one on suicide. I must have had 20-30 discussions on the topic recently, and one was appropriate, because it was discussing the challenges of getting out of that frame of mind, and handled in a very serious tone. This is unacceptable.
No boy or girl is worth it, no lost scholarship/grade should cost it, and no goal you can't achieve will pay for it. You get one life to live. Death is a word too far removed from us. It isn't real like it was to our grandparents. We don't really believe that suicide will kill us because of how many survival stories we hear. I hate to tell you this, but the only one's who can tell you the non-survivor stories are the friends and loved ones left behind, and usually they don't talk about it. But I know for a fact it isn't trendy to them.
I'm afraid for my fellows. What happens when comes the day you actually DO consider it? What happens when I blow you off because you've joked about it so many times before. Or worse yet, what happens when I blow someone ELSE off that I might've helped because of how you treated it?
This isn't funny. It's not good. It isn't a cry for help. It's not a buzzword to get attention and support.
If you are considering suicide, please get help. It isn't the answer. I'm sorry if people laugh at you when you try to talk about it. That's what attention getters aren't realizing. They don't realize they could be costing you your life.
So stop it. Stop joking, stop using it to get my attention.
It's calling 911 without an emergency.
It's a cry of Wolf without a predator.
posted by Matt at 12:38 AM
2 Comments:
I couldn'tve said it any better, Matt. Thank you. I had a few times where I considered it, and thankfully, the people around me hadn't heard that "WOLF!" cry yet, so I got what I needed to hear. I will add my plea to yours; please, please, please, don't use it to get attention. If you want attention, go find it in a normal way. Dance funky at a party. Make a lot of jokes. Crack a smile at anything and everything that's remotely funny. Don't, don't, don't say the word suicide unless you mean it, and if you do, look for the help you need.
After reading this post, I thought of the song. "Time after time" by Cyndi Lauper. I agree with your post, by the way. Life is worth living, even when it feels unbearable for a time. Ending it is not something to be taken lightly.
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