The word has gone round that a driver killed himself on the Central line yesterday. This squicks me out on a whole new set of levels.

I’m not greatly worried about having a one-under. I’ve seen the numbers and I know it’s actually quite rare. And even if it does happen to me then I know it’s not going to be my fault. Should somebody jump then it’s their decision and not something I can control. It’s still something I think about from time to time though and something I never want to happen to me.

I have mixed feelings about the people who jump. My initial reaction is one of anger. How could they do that to the poor driver! That’s a feeling I’ve had since long before I started this job; it’s not just due to my profession. Any kind of suicide which harms or endangers others strikes me as a really shitty  and selfish thing to do. Of course, that reaction is not the whole story. I know that anybody jumping under a train is not sane. Rational decisions about the feelings of strangers just isn’t there and really, I don’t blame them. People who jump under trains are not making a half-hearted cry for help. It’s a serious intent to destroy body and soul. I can’t imagine that level of self loathing and despair.

I think the fact that this may have been a driver makes the whole thing worse. Frankly, it gives me the heebie jeebies even thinking about it. Again I’m having the initial anger reaction. For someone to jump under a train is bad enough but to do that to colleagues on your own line adds another layer of horror. I keep having to remind myself that if he did indeed jump then he was not in his right mind. Of course, I’m also trying to rationalise it. Maybe it wasn’t a driver. Maybe he just crossed the track in a dangerous place and slipped. Maybe, maybe maybe.

I don’t really have a point with this blog. No conclusion. Today, it’s just my thoughts.

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