The Backstory to the Story
Contributed by Gary Bryan Jones
Last year, I began writing the manuscript for my latest novel, The Man From Booger Hollow. The title comes from a small, quirky little town tucked away in the foothills of the Ozarks. The story originally followed a good-natured, mischievous boy blessed with gentle, magical powers as he embarked on a wild and whimsical adventure through life.
Midway through writing the manuscript, a personal tragedy struck. Two of my close friends—and who did not know each other—chose to leave this life on their own terms. Their deaths occurred only a few months apart. The one thing they had in common was their closeness to me. They each made the devastating decision that they no longer wanted to live.
In the wake of their passing, and as a way of coping with my grief, I returned to my manuscript and rewrote it entirely, though I kept the same title: The Man From Booger Hollow. The new story became something very different—a tale of a boy burdened with deep challenges and dark thoughts, and of how he fought to survive them.
Looking back, I understand now that it isn’t always about not wanting to live—it’s often about not wanting to live with the pain and demons that feel unbearable and insurmountable. I never saw it coming. I didn’t notice any warning signs. And there isn’t a day that passes when I don’t think of each of these friends-and the others as well.
I’m writing these words to you in November, though you may know that “Suicide Prevention Awareness Month” is officially recognized in September. But for many of us, awareness doesn’t begin or end with a calendar date. For those who’ve been affected by suicide, every month—October, November, December, and beyond—is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. Every week, every day, every moment counts.
I would venture to say that nearly everyone reading this has been affected by suicide in some way. It’s no exaggeration to tell you that I have lost members of my family, members of my church, classmates, co-workers, and many dear friends to this silent tragedy. Perhaps you have, too.
If you are reading this and find yourself struggling with thoughts of leaving—please don’t. Please stay, please don’t go away. You are stronger than you believe. Taking your own life may seem like an end to pain, but it creates a wound of unimaginable depth in the hearts of those who love you. Things can and do get better. Reach out—to a trusted family member, a trusted friend, a counselor, a teacher, a pastor. And above all, reach out to a higher power. Seek God.
My reason for writing this isn’t to promote my book (though, I’ve been told it’s a good read). My true purpose is to shine a light on this terrible, quiet affliction called suicide—one that doesn’t wait for a certain day or month to strike.
Be kind to everyone you meet. You never know the dragons or demons someone might be fighting.