Suicide. I get it. Sometimes.
I have an acquaintance on suicide alert right now who is in the same business as I am. His father was very successful at what we do and he feels he can’t live up to the name or hype. He also can’t get hired with a bigger, better company. And this is why he is upset, ready to give up. Taking pills. Wanting to die. Possibly. It’s fucking stupid. Especially since he’s quite talented at least one other thing.
I think there are two kinds of suicides. Those who are selfish and petty…they don’t see the big picture. These are the first group of suicides. The wastes of life or talent. Or maybe they are just a waste of space.
They’ve lost their job or partner or home and can’t see that life DOES go on. There will be more opportunities. We create our futures. But these short-sighted individuals would rather inflict the pain of self death on their family because of some small failure in their own lives without realizing what they’re doing to others.
Then there are the alcoholics, smokers and obese, who are committing suicide in front of us every day. Slowly and expensively. And usually, in denial.
Then, there’s the right kind of suicide. This person has fought to go on and make sense of it all…and just can’t. They are usually sick without a cure in some way, shape or form. They opt out to selflessly to SPARE their family and friends the pain or expense of having them around.
I just get so sick of hearing opinionated idiots out there eschewing suicide with their parroted words from the safety of their armchairs.
You sheep disgust me.
You Christians disgust me, with your narrow minds and fear-mongering. If there’s a God, he gave us free will, correct? So he would allow us the choice of life or death if needed? Christians also conveniently “forget” the horribly bloody past that their religion truly holds. This is alarming, since they slaughtered many who wouldn’t convert…all in the name of their god. But suicide…”Well, you’re going to HELL for that shit!”
Walk a mile, my friend. Walk a mile in a person’s shoes who has been through Chemotherapy three times and just can’t do it any longer. Or the person who as early onset dementia and no close living family or no finances to take care of them. Or perhaps even the manic-depressive, who can’t seem to get through life without hurting all the people he loves best, the worst.
My grandmother, sick of being sick, sick of being in pain… begged me to kill her. She fucking BEGGED me, in a totally sane voice, with her eyes full of tears. It was gut wrenching to see her in so much pain that she’d rather die. And, I would have done it too, if I could have. To help her. Because she meant it. She REALLY meant it. And if you can’t exit this life when it no longer has ANY enjoyment left in it, what’s the fucking point? All you’re doing is taking up space. Existing.
Walk that mile first, before you label it as “selfish”…because it just might be the most SELFLESS thing someone could do. Giving up one’s life is no easy choice…and it’s certainly not always right for us to judge.
“Some people don’t cry because they’re weak. They cry because they have been strong for too long.”