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“Your scars are beautiful”: A guest post on self-harm

  • Caleb Wilde
  • September 27, 2014
  • 0 Comments
  • Suicide

Good writing happens when you are whisked away from your own reality and placed into another reality.  It happens when someone else’s narrative becomes apart of your own. Valuable writing happens when you’re whisked away into a perspective that you don’t understand.  It happens when you begin to see multiple dimensions of a narrative you […]

Nine of the Most Horrible Suicides of the Nineteenth Century

  • Caleb Wilde
  • September 15, 2014
  • 10 Comments
  • Suicide

by Steve Kemple Unlike today’s newspapers, daily rags of the Victorian era revelled in death, drama, and bloodshed. Headlines were filled with gruesome murders, bizarre accidents, and horrible suicides. Often, reporters invented details or indulged in wild speculation, because nothing sells newspapers like a spectacular headline. In those days, reading the paper was less an […]

Robin Williams’ Suicide: Why I hurt for the Williams family

  • Caleb Wilde
  • August 12, 2014
  • 24 Comments
  • Celebrity Death / Suicide

Yesterday I wrote a piece entitled, “Robin Williams: Finding the Silver Lining“.  I rarely address celebrity deaths on my blog, but I found Williams’ death affected me more than I expected. This morning I woke up and as I scrolled through my news feed I was surprised to see the details of Robin’s death trumpeted […]

The Suicide Song I Wrote Back in 2004

  • Caleb Wilde
  • July 19, 2014
  • 6 Comments
  • Suicide

This song is not meant to condone suicide.  Rather, it is an attempt to empathize with those who struggle with suicidal thoughts, feeling and actions.  I wrote and sang this song back in 2004 for a class project in my funeral service program. There’s a video that goes along with it (and was a rad […]

A Death I Don’t Understand

  • Caleb Wilde
  • June 5, 2013
  • 8 Comments
  • Complicated Grief / Guest Posts / Suicide

A friend of mine disappeared. I mean, left with only the clothes on his back. Borrowed clothes, at that. He left his phone. His wallet. Everything. And he just went away. Several days passed. Then weeks. Months. Nothing. No word. A friend of ours traveled on foot, looking for him. Others pressed the police. The […]

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