TW: suicide, discussion of commiting suicide, right to die
I would like to discuss something about which I have an opinion, a stubborn one at that.
I am going to die by my own hand. This is knowledge I have had access to for several years now, though in shifting contexts. It was initially a resignation: I did not feel as though I had any measure of control over the outcome of my demise. I was in a very deep depression at that point and could not cope with the pressures I was putting onto myself. I figured that it was inevitable that I would kill myself, and I assumed it would be in the near future.
Soon after, it became a bargaining chip. My subconscious was a steady stream of teeter-totters; thoughts bouncing back and forth, bartering with myself over whether I should write that essay or simply kill myself, because, hey, I had to die sometime. Go to school or kill myself. Miss a deadline or kill myself. For the record, I have never missed a deadline. Tangentially, I set myself a deadline with this in mind. Thirty-two years, that’s the limit of my tolerance. The mere thought of having to exist beyond that could ignite an existential crisis, because all my fears stem from the distress of losing what I have. My creative ability, my appearance, my control over situations, my reputation, &c. By defining the parameters within which I would live, I could cut my loses significantly. I read once that the body begins to degenerate at age thirty-five, and I simply added buffer space.
I’ve now settled comfortably into these new limits. My mental breakdowns have been reduced in quantity and I feel relatively content. I say that because if I was truly content I likely wouldn’t want to kill myself. This decision has given me a freedom I would not otherwise have: the ability to genuinely not care. Every act I make is within the context that I will someday, in the near future (relatively) be dead. I work hard and study intensely and act as I do because I care about those things intrinsically. I’m not in school to get a job, as I don’t plan on having a career. I engage in that which interests me.
The primary motivation for me musing on this is to emphasize that I am not killing myself because I am unhappy with myself in any way. I do not suffer from low self esteem, besides that which society pressures on occasion, and I am not suffering in the conventional sense. I want to die because I’m bored. I do not feel engaged in the world or its people. I, very literally, do not see the point. The strange aspect of the future I have chosen for myself is how it interacts with the present. I am doing things that make me genuinely happy at times, and some would expect that this newfound contentedness would subdue my desire to die. Not in the least. I am deadset on my decision, and its actually quite likely that I will be gone long before thirty-two. This does not make me sad, nor do I feel that I’m resigned to such a fate. Of course I still get overwhelmed and triggered, and spend nights wanting to die right then and there, but the thing that reassures me is that I will eventually never feel that way again.
Essentially, I am attempting to communicate my belief that I have no qualm with people wanting to commit suicde. I am aware that some people do not genuinely desire such, and they are struggling to find an alternative to the pain they are feeling, but there are those that are comfortable with the decision. I do not see what is wrong with this choice if it is what someone wants. Live and let die.