Committing to “Committed”

It's so hard to talk about suicide.

When I tell someone that in March 2016 my mother … and in April 1995 my father … it's difficult—and not just because it's painful. I must be hypervigilant. As I tell the story, I watch people carefully. Are they showing signs of discomfort? Are they suddenly upset because they have been reminded of someone in their own lives? Do they think I am oversharing, burdening them with information that suggests I believe we have a closer friendship than they do? Are they scared I am settling in to unload tearfully for the next 45 minutes? Are they looking at me with horror as they recall that suicide runs in families?