Over the Edge

What makes humans snap and unleash anger and violence that defines imagination? What is it that we carry around inside of us that reaches its limit in a breadth of a second and causes us to take our own lives, the lives of others or both? What makes us cross the line between reality and fantasy and causes us to act and/or react in ways that boggle even the most intelligent persons on the planet.

Serial killers methodically kill. They set, they stage, they display their victims and more oftentimes than not, they keep souvenirs of their victims. What is it that defines or shapes these specific types of people into what they become, who they kill and how they explain their actions? Just how long before they begin their killing sprees to they hear (if at all) the sound of the "snap" of whatever holds reality together for them inside their heads? Do they feel any emotion when they are carving out the internal organs of their victims and delicately, strategically placing them into a pentagram design, the pentagram automatically used as evidence to deign the killer as a devil worshipper and end speculation as to the "why" of the crimes. Or so it seems.

What if it were a tic tac toe design? Or a children's hopscotch drawing? Or someone's backyard pool? Then how would the serial killer be defined? People would ask what makes someone do something so horrific like that?

Let me break this down a bit: Terrorists inflict pain and suffering upon those they deem as "infidels." Their motivations are religious, or political or both. Some of these people wake up in the morning already having decided that they are going to commit suicide and take as many "infidels" with them as possible.

Who the f--k does that? Do these people cook breakfast, have a sip of their coffee (or whatever they drink in those countries that grow terrorists like Iowa grows corn) and take a shower before they strap a bomb around their bodies and go blow themselves up and kill hundreds of people in the process?

I genuinely believe those people were wired all wrong from the moment they were conceived. There was no snap, crackle or pop. When I get up in the morning, all I think about is getting my coffee and making my son's lunch for school. Maybe those terrorists think I am wired wrong but at least I get to FINISH my coffee - IN ONE PIECE!

What about the jealous husband who suddenly stabs his wife to death with a serrated knife and cuts off her head because his supper wasn't on the table at exactly 5:37 p.m. and then calmly sits down to eat his supper? When he is done, he calls 911 to report the crime. When questioned, he calmly tells police he was sick and tired of his supper being late. No other explanation is given and the husband shows no remorse. Did the husband hear the "snap" of the wires in his brain when he short-circuited and murdered his spouse?

What is it that sends us over the edge in a single moment?

A man I will identify as "Chris" told his 14-year old son he was going to kill himself with a rifle. The son called the police and what ensued was a five hour standoff between the police and this man. When it ended, "Chris" was taken to a local hospital for a mental health evaluation then released, only to be arrested the following day on several charges including not having a permit for his gun.

But there is far more to this than what has been reported by the media. What thought process, or block of logical thinking made this man contemplate ending his life? Perhaps his relationship with his wife was failing. Perhaps life had run circles around him and bound him so tightly that he felt like death would release him and give him solid ground upon which to stand. Perhaps a long time drug addiction (as rumored) had begun the short-circuitry of his wires years ago and he felt the "snap" coming, and verbalized his desire to die, but for whatever reason, thankfully did not inflict harm upon himself, his son or anyone else.

Why? What separates those who go over the edge completely from those who take one step off the edge, lean over, look down into the abyss but yet hold on to whatever thread of reality they have left in their minds?

And what defines reality for those of us who remain far away from the edge every single day and never even get close enough to look over?

Humans are artwork undefined. We are made up of a blending of colors and designs and some of us remain unfinished. Even our creator - whoever or whatever that may be is still an unknown.

Our designs as humans are scientists', researchers' and doctors' dreams come true: We are made up of natually occuring chemicals that run rampant in our bodies that can go to Defcon 5 in less than a millisecond. We have molecules and neutrons and electrons and protons and neurons and a lot of other "ons" that keep the medical journals full and psychologists and psychiatrists ready with their pens and script pads to ensure damage control with pills when all hell breaks loose in our bodies and brains.

But when that "snap" happens - for whatever the reason, for whatever small chemical hiccup that occurs as simply as if we've tripped over a shoelace, or as destructive as a Mt. Vesuvius-like explosion somewhere in the farthest, darkest corner of a brain that causes someone to remove themselves from life and/or take the lives of others with them is and will remain as inexplicable as the action itself.