Everybody Hurts
"My husband is the love of my life. I would do anything for him, but his chances are not so good." Joanne had been staring at the ground the whole time. "My mom's health is also failing. I try to remain hopeful, but I think time is running out." Joanne is my new friend. I did not expect her to confide in me something so personal. "Because of their conditions, I am beginning to explore what options there are, in case they wish to put an end to their suffering . . ." She tried to restrain her sniffles.
I can really relate to Joanne because I have had many health challenges. The idea of ending my life is something I have thought about more than one time.
I surmise that, before contemplating suicide, most people probably have suffered for quite a while already. Pretending to be ok is hard. It takes so much courage and persistence to go on for another day. When it seems like there is no way out, and you feel like you cannot do it anymore, what do you do? Given the prevalent culture in the society, most people who choose this route secretly execute their plan, making their death a shock to their family and friends.
"Why did he do that?" "Why didn't I see the signs?" "What could I have done different?" Survivor guilt kicks in 100%. It is a trauma to the whole community. It becomes their turn to suffer. And they even have to deal with the social stigma that comes follows their loss . . .
My first boyfriend lost his mother to suicide. She killed herself when he was a little boy. He was too young to make sense of it. He did not have the vocabulary to express his feeling. Nor did he have the resources to manage his emotions. He sensed that his mother's death was a taboo. He was not supposed to ask or talk about it. The gaping hole in his little heart never healed. By the time I met him, he still threw tantrums like a five-year-old. He had severe separation anxiety. At times, he cried unconsolably and his girlfriend who was just three months older really had no idea how to help him.
The first time I thought about ending my own life, I was seven, a second-grader. My family was facing a lot of challenges. Money was a huge issue to an illiterate couple with five young children. After my grandpa died, my sister dropped out of school to help support the family. In my young mind, I thought I was responsible for all of that. I was the freeloader. I was their burden. They would be better off without me . . .
I spent a lot of time trying to think up a good plan that would take care of business for good. There were plenty of great ideas to pull from the news report: jumping from a tall building, dashing into a busy road in front of a car, turning on the gas at home . . .
At a young age, I already learnt to weighed my options.
Cutting my wrist is no good. It is slow and messy.
Jumping into the sea is not an option because I can swim.
We conveniently live on the 12th floor. Jumping off the building would be fast. But where am I going to land? Wouldn't it make a mess for the people who live downstairs from us? The police would ask Mama to come ID me. Seeing me all bloody and broken, she would be so broken-hearted. Sigh. I can't jump from a building.
We live near a busy street with so much traffic. I can pick a taxicab. They are known for speeding. But wait: after hitting me, would the cabdriver still want to remain a professional driver? It would ruin his livelihood. He has nothing to do with this. I can't mess with people's lives. Dashing into traffic is out.
We use LPG cans at home. Do they even have enough gas inside to kill a person? What if someone rings our doorbell at the wrong time? It will blow up the building! Where is my family going to live? No, turning on the gas is a bad idea.
There was no one single good method as soon as I thought about how the impact on other people, particularly my own family.
Grandpa dies, and my sister has to quit school to help pay for the funeral. After I die, who else has to quit school? My brothers love school! I can't do that to them. My parents have done so much for me. What have I done for them in return? This is not how one reciprocates.
So, I lived, though not very happily, for many years. Suicide can be violent. The one act hurts many people multiple times for a very long time. I am glad I did not follow through. Even better, I learn to live and think differently. And I found people I can turn to during difficult times.
Having said that, I totally support people's right to choose how their lives end. When there is little dignity left of one's existence, when suffering overwhelms any remaining joy in life, and when there is not much to be called "quality of life" anymore, I may ask if it is time for me to go. However, it would not be a unilateral decision, but one that involves my loved ones. I do not want to just leave a note. My family, my friends and I, we all deserve better. I want them to understand my choice. When I still can, I want to hug them and hold their hands one more time to say a proper goodbye.
Life and death are not to be taken lightly. We all will die at some point, but we do not have to option to come back again once we are gone. Treasure every second and always seize the day. After all, everybody hurts, sometimes.
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