‘... one needs more courage to live than to kill himself.’ —  Albert Camus

Forgive me for being morbid, but when I see a young person die of overdose or suicide, I’m muddled, befuddled, troubled.

“Why?” I ask myself. “Why?”

Since I’m well on my way to 70, “young” is a relative term. To me, 30 seems young. Even 40. Or 46.

Consider Philip Seymour Hoffman. Nominated for an Oscar four times. Won in 2006 for “Capote.” Also won a Golden Globe, a Screen Actors Guild Award, BAFTA, multiple Film Critics awards. Plus more. And yet, at age 46, he was found dead in his apartment, with a syringe in his arm — an accidental overdose caused by “acute mixed drug intoxication, including heroin, cocaine, benzodiazepines and amphetamine,” officials said.

“Why?”

You could pick others who died too young or too soon: Amy Winehouse, 27, alcohol poisoning; Kurt Cobain, 27, suicide by a self-inflicted shotgun wound; Janet Joplin, 27, overdose; Jimi Hendrix, 27, asphyxia while intoxicated; Jim Morrison, 27, heroin overdose; John Belushi, 33, drug intoxication; Chris Farley, 33, drug overdose; Marilyn Monroe, 36, acute barbiturate poisoning; Whitney Houston, 48, accidental drowning; Ernest Hemingway, 61, shot himself with his favorite shotgun; Robin Williams, 63, hanged himself with a belt.

“Why?”

It isn’t like I’ve not had suicidal thoughts. We’ve all been pushed to our limits — and beyond. Like Titanic, we’ve hit our iceberg. My iceberg was a “Dear John” letter when I was in Vietnam. The idea of blowing my brains out occurred to me. Turned to God instead. Does that make me weak?

You tell me …

I once knew a young man in his 20s. Tried to commit suicide. Survived. Hugged him. Said I loved him. Cried with him. Told him I’d be there for him. Anytime. Anywhere. Tried to kill himself a second time. Succeeded. I was crushed. Never the same. Felt empty. Lost. Responsible. Eventually, settled down. Evened out. Stabilized. How? Prayer helped. Time, too.

Ultimately, we can’t make life-death decisions for others. It doesn’t work that way. Jesus said we should, “Love one another.” I agree. Jesus loved Judas. Killed himself anyway. I can’t hold myself to a higher standard. Neither should you.

Here’s the deal: If you feel overwhelmed, talk to somebody. Anybody. Family. Friends. Teachers. Ministers. Get all that junky stuff in your head/heart on the table. Sort it out. Like a puzzle.

If there’s nobody you trust, check out the Suicide Prevention Lifeline (www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org) or call them at 1–800–273-8255. They’ll hook you up with a counselor at a crisis center.

Have courage. Stay alive. Help others.

OK?

Jim Lamb is a retired journalist and author of “Orange Socks & Other Colorful Tales,” the story of how he survived Vietnam and kept his sense of humor. This was one of the toughest things he’s ever written. For more about Jim and his writing, visit www.jslstories.com.