Some thoughts on suicide bombers

Never judge a man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins.

And so, I try to imagine.What would it take for me to be a suicide bomber? How fucked up would life have to be for me to A) strap on a bomb and B) actually detonate it.

The thought is horrific and terrifying and just completely unimaginable for me. Although in my lifetime I have had boments when I was suicidal. Being molested as a pre-teen combined with being harassed and taunted by the racist white kids at school sent my grades into a nose dive and drove me to a suicide attempt.

Later, in my 30's, when we lost a baby, I wanted to die as well. The idea of the tiny little heartbeat stopping and mine continuing was nearly too much to bear. I think it was one loss too many for Ye Ex Matey after the deaths, seemingly one after the other of his grandmother, grandfather and mother. It was the beginning of the end for us.

So... grief, loss, unearable pain- physical and emotional; I can see these things making someone want to end their own life. I didn't because I knew that what I was feeling would not continue - that the feeling of wanting to end your own life goes away as the pain ebbs.

But what makes someone not only want to take their own life and the lives of others as they die? While Republicans in general and conservatives in particular make me angrier, in their willful ignorance, than many would believe possibe - and the idea of a Republican President  in this political climate is repulsive- it's certainly not worth ending my life over.

Yet and still, we are, even at this moment, sending men and women overseas, knowing that may be sending them to their death. They may never return.

They strap up so I don't have to?

What a horrendous thought.

And probably true.

No sooner than President Obama finished his speech in Afghanisan, more people decided the best way to protest was to strap on a bomb and set it off.


The pain, the loss.

The unimaginable pain.

What a barabaric little planet we are.

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