Flirting with Suicide The death of an Australian boy's dream The life of David Woods was the stuff of an Australian boy's dream. He played professional rugby league football in a country that treats athletes as idols. At the age of 29, he had a loving family, a girlfriend, a 3-month-old baby, plenty of money, everything to live for. And, for unfathomable(高深莫测的)reasons, nothing to live for. On New Year's Day, Woods ran a hose from the exhaust pipe to the window of his Mitsubishi sedan and asphyxiated(使窒息)himself. His family still has no idea why. One day he called his mother to announce that he had signed a new contract with his team, Gold Coast, recalls his elder brother, Tony. 'Twenty hours later,' says Tony, 'he gassed himself to death.' The death of David Woods came as a wake-up call to Australia, which is often touted as the ideal place to bring up kids. But the sun, the beaches and the sporting culture are the cheery backdrop to a disturbing trend: young Australian men are now killing themselves at the rate of one a day -- triple the rate of 30 years ago. Though most Australians aren't particularly suicidal, their boys are. In 1990 suicide surpassed car accidents as the leading cause of death among males aged 15 to 24. Funloving Australia is now far worse off than Asian nations known for strict discipline. The yearly suicide rate for young Australian males is 2 times higher than in Japan, Hong Kong or Singapore. It's a 'picture of despair, despondency and aimlessness,' says Adam Graycar, director of Australia's Institute of Criminology. A hard struggle for Australian youth Why boys? A nation of wideopen spaces and rugged individualism, Australia still lionizes(把…捧为名人)the film star Gary Cooper model of masculinity: the strong, silent type who never complains, who always gets the job done. In recent years schools and social institutions have concentrated on creating new opportunities and more equality for girls — while leaving troubled boys with the classic admonition(告戒) of the Australian father: pall yourself together. It's past time to take a much closer look at the lives of young men, some researchers argue. 'People think, 'My kids aren't doing drugs, my kids are at home, my kids are safe' ,' says psychiatrist John Tiller of Melbourne University, who studied 148 suicides and 206 attempts in the state of Victoria. 'They are wrong.' The Haywards, a comfortably well-off family in Wyong, north of Sydney, figured they were dealing with the normal melodramas(传奇剧)of troubled hood. Their son Mark had put up a poster of rock star Kurt Cobain, a 1.994 suicide victim, along with a Cobain quote: 'l hate myself and I want to die.' 'From the age of 12, Mark had his ups and downs — mood swings, depression and low self-esteem,' says his father, Stuart, a tax accountant. The Haywards sent Mark to various counselors, none of whom warned that he had suicidal tendencies. By last year Mark was 19, fighting bouts of unemployment and a drug problem. He tried church, struggling to 'do the right thing,' says his father. Last September Mark dropped out of a detoxification(戒毒)program, and apologized to his parents. 'I have let you down again,' he said. A few days later, his mother found Mark's body in bushland near their home. In retrospect, Mark Hayward's struggles were far from uncommon. The number of suicides tends to keep pace with the unemployment rate, which for Australians between 15 and 19 has risen from 19 percent in 1978, the first year data were collected, to 28 percent last year. Suicide is especially high among the most marginal: young Aboriginal(澳大利亚土著的)men, isolated by poverty, alcoholism and racism. As in other developed countries, Australian families have grown less cohesive (聚合在一起的) in recent years, putting young men out into the world at an earlier age. Those who kill themselves often 'think it will make it easier for th