Suicide Selfish?

  • Posted: March 30, 2011 and this post was last modified April 3, 2011.

Once in a blue moon I comment that I hate my life; may happen once or twice a year. I just succumb to all my troubles and pains knowing I have no control over them. In general, I am a positive person, but I was not always that way…well, not really. I was, in general, a positive person back then, but it was fake; I did it for others. I would stay in good spirits as long as I could to make others happy, but I didn’t believe the positiveness. Nowadays, I maintain an almost sickening positive outlook on life for the most part, and it’s real. The fact that it is real is the only way I am able to maintain it!

But it was not always real to me. I had a dark period in my life when I went back into Foster Care, got out on my own, realized I was alone, lost my way, alienated friends [not on purpose at all, just out of shame], lost my job, and then lost my place in a matter of two years [after H.S. I should say…I was back in Foster Care for the last two years of H.S. and then life began after graduation…]. I know how it feels to feel alone, abandoned, and rejected by the world. It is a state of mind. I will always contend that the mind is just too powerful for us sometimes. It can turn us against our logic, our sense, and ourselves with ease. I spent two or three days trying to find a reason to be around and keep on living. I ran across people who I hadn’t seen in months and chit chatted like all was well desperately seeking some sign of ‘life’. A magazine article on suicide caught my eye in a grocery store. I went to a sister church of my church [I couldn’t bring myself to my church in the state I was in–would have been too emotional for me] to seek help, but it was Sunday. Everyone was teaching or getting taught, and the people that I walked by in trying to find my way around this massive church just passed me by. One helped me find my way to the sanctuary, but I just couldn’t find someone to talk to.  The mind is a dark and disturbed place in that state. So hard it is to explain that feeling.

People often say suicide is selfish. But they do not see how selfish of a statement that is in and of itself. Think about it: you want to tell me not to be selfish and put that kind of hurt on you and others…more specifically, you want me to continue to suffer so that you do not have to. Naturally, that is not what anyone is saying to their loved ones when they say it is selfish, but that’s what we hear. But that’s not what we think about. We think about the burden we are to you. We think about how life just won’t get any better for us. We think about how suicide is the only option. We don’t blame you, curse you, or want you to hurt in any way, but to us, there just is no other option. Our damn minds won’t let us see any other truths apart from the ones we perceive ourselves.

I did try suicide a couple of times [only once as an adult/out of High School…twice if ya count the time I refuse to count]; the problem with me has always been my fear of pain. The funny thing is, nowadays, I don’t allow myself to be controlled by my fears [for the most part…I’m only human], but back in the day, I was far more of a scaredy cat than I am now! Pain was not an option…well…I mean, I did try pain, but the slightest amount of pain was too much pain for me so I had to find another route. I have always been greatful that I never had access to a gun growing up, and as a young adult, they scared me. I was always on some sort of prescription drugs ever since Jr. High so good meds were never a problem to get a hold of. The problem was that when I was taken to the hospital, drank that nasty charcoal [thankfully, I was so ‘drugged’ up that I only really remember fighting the docs to swallow the crap, and not the taste], and was tested, they found my system was clean…rather not high in levels for the prescription I was supposed to have taken. The shrink asked me why I thought I took the bottle of pills, and I told him that I did not think I did, but rather that I did in fact ingest the majority of that bottle [that it was empty was not entirely my doing]. He said the blood results just didn’t show that. But he couldn’t explain how I’d blacked out most of the evening and appeared so ‘out of it’ in the E.R.

It was from that point that I changed my mindset. I figured God wanted me around. There was no other explanation. After all, I know exactly what I did and how it went down; how I didn’t have the blood results to prove it is beyond me, but not beyond God. I started to change my mindset. It wasn’t easy at first. It hasn’t been easy. It has only been truly in the past 4-5 years that I have really adhered to this new positive mindset. And only in the past 2 years that I have just made it my life. I may wake up hurt, angry, or sad, but it doesn’t stay with me for the day; it doesn’t dwell and fester in my mind. It seeps in throughout the day perhaps and always comes back at night because I have nothing better to do than think, but it doesn’t consume me like it once did. I don’t let it control me, how I live, or how I react; not to an extreme at least. Experiences and life will always affect us in some form or another, but we do not have to let it be a negative reaction. I try to live each day in the positive; it makes me feel better, and it makes the people around me feel better [which in turn makes me feel better even more…=P].

So why suicide? It is not because we are selfish. We are weak, broken down, tired, confused, lost, scared, hurting, and just trying to cope, but we are not selfish. If anything, it is because we are not selfish that we would consider such a selfless act; after all, we don’t want to burden you and we are cutting off our opportunity at a long life. Of course, only in our minds does it make sense.

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