thoughts on mindless death
A few thoughts.
- Suicide is the most irresponsible, mindless, worthless endeavor any individual can achieve.
- If you know someone that's commited suicide, they deserved that death. They do not deserve the slightest bit of sorrow or mourning you might have expressed on their behalf.
- If i were ever dumb enough to off myself, i'd do it listening to rufus ( Read more... )
Yeah, but your brother failing a class would be the result of something that he irresponsibly let slide. Suicides are much more complex than that. It's not that someone didn't try hard enough to be responsible, or that they didn't bother taking some action that would be constructive, or any other thing they failed to live up to. (i personally got to the point of taking 12 Xanax a day, still having not committed the act. All I wanted was to feel normal and I tried everything I thought possible to do so...I definitely showed up for class) It's a combination of pain and emotional imbalance...of course no one deserves guilt/sorrow for the suicide, but no one would deserve guilt or sorrow had that person been murdered. no one *deserves* sorrow for another person's death that they did not cause. But the person who committed suicide didn't do it as a result of "not bothering to show up to class" (metaphorically speaking), they had some deep-seated psychological issues that probably didn't start with their own actions (family background, for instance...ingrained behaviors that eventually become a reality to the person until the structure of that reality is violated in such a way that the person cannot emotionally handle it and caves in/breaks down/kills himself)
It's not their fault. Yes they chose the action but often times they are already faulting themselves for a lot more than they are really responsible for, even before an outsider judges them on it. Many people who attempt or eventually commit suicide are actually a lot harder on themselves for the times they don't bother "showing up to class". They are harder on themselves more than anyone else is on them, pushing themselves to the very limit....I thought I was responsible for everything, personally. Too responsible.
People that commit suicide--the ones that REALLY want to and REALLY plan it out and act upon it-- are often hoping that their family will grieve as little as possible. They're wishing the same thing you are, Daniel. They, too, believe that their family shouldn't deserve the sorrow to come or even BOTHER mourning them. All they want is to escape the pain of what they view as a life they cannot fix. They don't want to inconvenience their families with their passing. They feel worthless enough as it is; they would rather just silently pass on.
Suicide is the most irresponsible, mindless, worthless endeavor any individual can achieve.
to whom do they have a responsibility to? Come on, remember the Randian days? :)
So we shouldn't live chiefly for ourselves, then?
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I understand suicide as desperation. And i understand it would have eased your pain, or lack of emotion, if you successfully accomplished it. But at what cost? Your own existence. Through all that you went through, what is it that got you out of that rut? It wasnt suicide. You figured it out.
And i disagree with you about sorrow concerning a murder. In that case, sorrow is perfectly justified. As one who loves life, and all the possibilities therein, a murder is the abrupt end against one's will. It's an act of aggression against someone and as a result, a plentiful life will never have the opportunity to play out. That's definitely grounds for sadness.
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I am not out of that rut, totally. And the only reason suicide didn't get me out was A) It didn't work when I first tried it (and maybe my method wasn't "serious" enough an attempt...I'm trying to remember if maybe at the time, I took 50 sedative pills just to try and get to sleep.), and B) I couldn't bring myself to really try it again...too narcissistic, I guess. But I was extremely suicidal for over two years after the incident. That I lived was either insanity or a miracle. That I put up with it that long was the result of finding people online with the same condition. Had it been twenty years ago, I'm sure I would have killed myself and done it right.
My own existence was very unimportant at the time. I couldn't even BE a part of my own existence! When every day is such an unreal hell where you can't even talk to someone because you can't talk, when you are screaming on the phone because you have lost your body, when you are holding lighters to yourself and cutting yourself and slamming your head on the wall to try to shock yourself because even being three miles away from teh WTC when it got hit had absolutely no effect on you...your existence is pretty much gone. You can't feel it and you don't care about it. It's not that important. You actually begin to hate people around you who claim that your existence is important because they're keeping you in that hell. No one understands and you know what the worst part is? Very few helped. I would be scared out of my wits and telling my dad about it and he would call his girlfriend mid-conversation and ask her what she was doing for dinner that night. Yeah, my existence wasn't that important at the time. And I still, if put in that situation again (god forbid), would consider suicide. I still look back and don't have any regret for trying it. It at least gave me a much-needed nap.
I still understand suicidal ideations and attempts for anyone who has been through that same condition, because it's incredible sheer damn luck that I am where I am at now.
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