For me, suicide is not a theoretical issue. It’s something I struggled with on a daily basis for maybe half a year. I would sit here in my office on the 8th floor and wonder if today was the day I would see if the window opened widely enough for me to slip through. I wondered if 8 floors was enough. If I would be able to turn around and land head first so as to make sure I didn’t survive.
I imagined that short flight and wondered if I would have regrets at the last moment. If I would chicken out and try to see if I could survive it. I imagined that last moment of consciousness before nothingness and not even an awareness of nothingness. Then I comforted myself that after that, it wouldn’t matter. A nothingness of nothingness.
Everyone one talks to about this reminds one that there are family members: children and a spouse and perhaps even others who would be affected very badly if I were to succeed. Or maybe even if I only tried. This fact seemed to mean a lot to most people I talked to about it. Most women, anyway. They cited it as the number one reason why they could never kill themselves, even though they wished they could.
How is it that we can have such a powerful impact on others if we die, when we feel totally lost, alone, and unloved while we are alive? I suppose we could be wrong in our assessment of ourselves that we are unloved. But do our feelings lie? Is it possible to be loved, yet feel unloved? Could people love us without actually expressing their love to us? If so, what does that mean? Does that mean this urge to die is a disconnect with reality? It seems that most people who have not felt this pain do argue that. They argue that we are not unloved. We are missing it, somehow.
I don’t know if that helps. I know that “I wouldn’t want to do that to my children” does seem to help a number of people. If your parent is a suicide, that strongly increases the chances you will be a suicide. But not everyone has children.
I never wanted to die. I don’t believe anyone wants to die. What people want, I believe, is an end to the pain. And there are some pains that seem like they will never end.
Should I have to live in pain for the rest of my life? The pain of depression is unrelenting and unbelievably painful. It is worse than any physical pain I can imagine. Physical pains tend to stop after a while. Mental anguish does not. It might end. If we’re lucky it will end. But usually when it is really bad, it becomes impossible to believe it could ever end. Not no how. Not no way. Except if you are dead.
Suicide, I believe, is only seen as a way to end unbearable pain. The question is, is the pain truly unbearable? Is it true that it will never end?
This is not something we can know. In my experience, the mental anguish did end. It ended for everyone I know before they killed themselves. This suggests that mental pain is also temporary, although to say that is like speaking a lie. This pain is unbelievable and it is not possible to conceive of it ending until it actually does diminish.
Suicide is wrong, for me, because it is based on a premise that is not likely to be true. It is based on the premise that the pain will never end. Still, the pain can go on and on and it can seem like it will never end and I can understand why someone would feel that way. At a certain point, you give in, and you just want it to get worse until you have the strength to end it.
My psychiatrist had a clever trick, and it worked even though I knew it was a trick. He told me that you should never make a life-changing decision when you are in the midst of a depression. You should always wait at least three months. I was thinking about letting my wife be free of me. Three months later, he gave me another reason to wait three more months (it takes time to get the meds right, or some such).
Is suicide wrong? I could never answer that question. But should you wait? Yes. You should always wait. Give it time. Give it another day. You can live one more day, can’t you? Then just take it wundayatta time. That is all I can ask of anyone, no matter what situation they are in. One more day. Just give me one more day. You can handle that. Any one of us could.