PARENTS WILL NEVER KNOW...
Today was the day for counseling sessions at the observation home. A 16-year-old boy came for his fifth counseling session. During the session, I realized that he was still struggling with his broken love affair. Concerned for his well-being, I asked him if he had ever thought about committing suicide. Sadly, he admitted that he had contemplated it earlier in the day.
To approach the situation cautiously, I suggested that we evaluate the pros and cons of such a decision before moving forward. He agreed, so I asked him to consider the potential benefits of committing suicide. He responded by saying that it would be better than living a suffocated life.
I then shared with him that many people have experienced broken love affairs and have managed to move on, eventually living fulfilling lives. I emphasized that the pain he feels now doesn't necessarily mean it will persist forever. It's possible to find relief and a life free from suffocation in the future.
I continued by challenging his assumption that death would automatically grant him an escape from pain. I asked him to consider the possibility of an afterlife, where he might end up in either heaven or hell. If he were to end up in hell, he would potentially face even more suffering than he is experiencing now.
Furthermore, I asked him to reflect on the impact his decision would have on his parents. While he believed they would eventually recover from his loss, I reminded him that the depth of a parent's love is immeasurable. I also highlighted the fact that his feelings for the girl were relatively new compared to the lifelong love he had for his parents. What he perceived as love might be more accurately described as attraction fueled by hormonal changes.
Recognizing his need for emotional support, I inquired whether he had anyone he could confide in. Unfortunately, he replied that he didn't have anyone to share his feelings with.
To address his social isolation, I asked if he ever had the opportunity to go out and enjoy himself at places like the mall. He revealed that he resided in Gwalior with his uncle, who restricted his outings.
With the aim of providing him with a positive experience and connection, I offered to pick him up the following Sunday evening to dine at a nice restaurant. He agreed to this gesture and made a promise not to commit suicide. At that moment, a peculiar thought crossed my mind - his parents would never realize the impact I had on their lives today.
Earlier in the day, I had the opportunity to counsel seven teenagers at the observation home. Afterward, as I arrived at my office, a young girl was waiting for her counseling session. She was burdened by an overwhelming amount of pain following her 19-year-old brother's tragic suicide earlier this year.
In our session, I asked her if she wished to continue carrying the weight of this pain. Her response was a resounding "obviously not." Recognizing the importance of choice, I presented her with an alternative perspective: she could either spend her life consumed by regret for the years she won't have with her brother or choose to be grateful for the 19 years she did share with him.
Furthermore, I reassured her that she should not blame herself for what had transpired, as I observed her grappling with various stages of grief, shifting back and forth. She even expressed the belief that her brother might still be alive had he met me. Sensing the weight of guilt in her words, I gently reminded her that dwelling on "what if's" is not productive or healthy.
Throughout our sessions, we engaged in numerous conversations that I must hold confidential. However, it was immensely gratifying to witness her leave my office with a lighter heart and a greater sense of happiness.
As I reflect on my day, I realize the significance of the strange thought that crossed my mind after counseling the suicidal teenage boy and the sister who had lost her teenage brother to suicide. The thought was rooted in the understanding that sometimes the impact we have on others' lives cannot be recognised .
Alok Benjamin, Psychological Counsellor