Suicide
What's this all about?
Last week I was bumbling around the internet when I came across this swiss organisation called Dignitas. It purported to offer legal, medically assisted suicide. The more I read up about it, the more interested I became. It wasn't long before I started talking to them directly about the possibility of having one myself.
Why did this come about now?
It may seem sudden, but the truth is I have been dwelling on suicide for a while. For the past nine months where I've been actively working on building a life, I've been dwelling on suicide. During the nine month period before that when I was attempting suicide I was obviously dwelling on it. Even earlier still than that, I have been dwelling on suicide. It's every day, an ever present part of my mental landscape.
But I thought you were doing so well!
I *have* been doing well in a lot of ways. With the help of my medicine I am now able to walk a full mile in one go, or otherwise stay on my feet for thirty minutes. And in other respects I have been more active, more social and more functional than my low point last October.
So what's the problem?
The problem is, it has been hard. Simple tasks like having a shower or cooking a meal take inordinate quantities of effort. My physical capacity for motion has improved significantly, but it seems like my mental capacity for action has not.
What does that even mean?
It means that, when I literally have my hands in my hair applying shampoo, I am applying some small amount of effort to move my arms in the appropriate way and I am applying large amounts of effort to ignore/quell/silence the part of me saying "Give up! Stop trying! You don't want this!" Hyperbole and a Half puts this excellently; The absurdity of working so hard to continue doing something you don't want can be overwhelming.
So, Dignitas?
I've attempted suicide before, but those times were all secrets and lies, kludges and hacks. But here was Dignitas offering a different approach. It would be legal, honest and open. I could maybe have my loved ones accompany me, if they consented. There'd be medical professionals getting me some lethal drugs proven to be effective, and to make sure I died as intended. There'd be plans for what to do with my body, and with my finances. It all seemed so much neater that I couldn't help but feel interested.
Are you actually going to Switzerland then?
No. After talking it over with the people at Dignitas, we basically concluded that I am not ill enough to qualify for their assistance. I've run into the same roadblock everywhere I've looked. Legal assisted suicide is rare, and I have yet to find anywhere that actually offers it to anyone except the terminally ill. It's looking like I won't be able to have any doctors help me with this.
But you're still considering suicide?
This whole episode has essentially reaffirmed something that I already knew. While every day is a struggle and the idea of a lifetime of this is completely terrifying and I spend half my waking thoughts resisting the urge to give up, believing for a few days that I might actually go to Switzerland quelled all that. I was prepared to wait several months. I was prepared to talk to all the lawyers and doctors that were necessary. I was prepared to run around gathering documentation, and have horrible gut wrenching conversations with my family, and actually get on a plane to another country with all the exertion that implies, if it meant I actually got what I wanted.
Essentially, suicide is what I want, on a really visceral level.
Can you analogise that for me?
Sure!
Think of something you want. Not like, you want some ice cream, but something really important to you. Say, all of the positive relationships in your life. All your friends and family and loved ones that contribute so much to your well being. You want to keep those, right?
Okay, now actively destroy those relationships.
Spend long periods of time thinking about how best to drive them away. Shout at them, say horrible things to them, break their possessions, break their trust, whatever it takes.
Now keep doing that. All the time. Every day. Never let the goal of destroying your relationships stray from your mind. Never swerve from it. Ignore the big part of you screaming "What on earth am I doing? This is absurd! This isn't what I want!" Ignore the fact that the goal you're working towards, being isolated and alone, seems hideously unappealing. Just keep destroying those relationships for the entire rest of your life.
That's what it's like for me, except replace 'destroying those relationships' with 'staying alive'.
Maybe if you kept working at it, eventually you'd come to realise that life is worthwhile?
Maybe if you drove away everyone you ever loved, you'd come to realise that being alone is preferable?
Sorry, that was flippant.
You're right of course. There's always the possibility of a brighter future. At several distinct points in my adult life I have made explicit decisions to postpone suicide, not because I wanted to live, but because I hoped X would make me want to live. This includes my gender transition.
Essentially, I have given life a lot of chances, and it has yet to work out.
It would be a disaster for me if I ended up living a whole lifetime, each year hoping that the next year would be better.
But what about the people who care about you!
I'm aware that committing suicide would grieve everyone I care about. It's completely selfish. It would probably be the worst thing I ever did, in terms of net global utility. But that concern is not enough to keep me alive for a lifetime.
Are you worried about an afterlife at all?
I assign high probability to the idea that death results in oblivion. That's partly due to reasoning, partly because it's the outcome I hope for.
To entertain the idea of an afterlife, I think it's worth noting that there are far more possible outcomes than the ones usually mentioned. If we think of it simply as, more existence but with a different set of rules, who is to say that I won't be able to die a second time? Or maybe I wouldn't want to. Maybe I wouldn't remember any of this.
Regardless, I am not going to live a whole lifetime in fear of some afterlife, only to die anyway.
So what now?
I'm going to do some serious weighing of options. I already have a few ideas how I can improve my suicide method compared to previous attempts. I still like the idea of being open and honest about it, so I will probably have some of those gut wrenching conversations. I probably won't be able to have any kind of assistance in the actual suicide, however, as apparently that could get someone charged with complicity in suicide (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_Act_1961).
Maybe I shall make a suicide attempt, maybe I will give life yet another chance. Can't say with any certainty. What I'd like to do right now though, is talk about it.
Last week I was bumbling around the internet when I came across this swiss organisation called Dignitas. It purported to offer legal, medically assisted suicide. The more I read up about it, the more interested I became. It wasn't long before I started talking to them directly about the possibility of having one myself.
Why did this come about now?
It may seem sudden, but the truth is I have been dwelling on suicide for a while. For the past nine months where I've been actively working on building a life, I've been dwelling on suicide. During the nine month period before that when I was attempting suicide I was obviously dwelling on it. Even earlier still than that, I have been dwelling on suicide. It's every day, an ever present part of my mental landscape.
But I thought you were doing so well!
I *have* been doing well in a lot of ways. With the help of my medicine I am now able to walk a full mile in one go, or otherwise stay on my feet for thirty minutes. And in other respects I have been more active, more social and more functional than my low point last October.
So what's the problem?
The problem is, it has been hard. Simple tasks like having a shower or cooking a meal take inordinate quantities of effort. My physical capacity for motion has improved significantly, but it seems like my mental capacity for action has not.
What does that even mean?
It means that, when I literally have my hands in my hair applying shampoo, I am applying some small amount of effort to move my arms in the appropriate way and I am applying large amounts of effort to ignore/quell/silence the part of me saying "Give up! Stop trying! You don't want this!" Hyperbole and a Half puts this excellently; The absurdity of working so hard to continue doing something you don't want can be overwhelming.
So, Dignitas?
I've attempted suicide before, but those times were all secrets and lies, kludges and hacks. But here was Dignitas offering a different approach. It would be legal, honest and open. I could maybe have my loved ones accompany me, if they consented. There'd be medical professionals getting me some lethal drugs proven to be effective, and to make sure I died as intended. There'd be plans for what to do with my body, and with my finances. It all seemed so much neater that I couldn't help but feel interested.
Are you actually going to Switzerland then?
No. After talking it over with the people at Dignitas, we basically concluded that I am not ill enough to qualify for their assistance. I've run into the same roadblock everywhere I've looked. Legal assisted suicide is rare, and I have yet to find anywhere that actually offers it to anyone except the terminally ill. It's looking like I won't be able to have any doctors help me with this.
But you're still considering suicide?
This whole episode has essentially reaffirmed something that I already knew. While every day is a struggle and the idea of a lifetime of this is completely terrifying and I spend half my waking thoughts resisting the urge to give up, believing for a few days that I might actually go to Switzerland quelled all that. I was prepared to wait several months. I was prepared to talk to all the lawyers and doctors that were necessary. I was prepared to run around gathering documentation, and have horrible gut wrenching conversations with my family, and actually get on a plane to another country with all the exertion that implies, if it meant I actually got what I wanted.
Essentially, suicide is what I want, on a really visceral level.
Can you analogise that for me?
Sure!
Think of something you want. Not like, you want some ice cream, but something really important to you. Say, all of the positive relationships in your life. All your friends and family and loved ones that contribute so much to your well being. You want to keep those, right?
Okay, now actively destroy those relationships.
Spend long periods of time thinking about how best to drive them away. Shout at them, say horrible things to them, break their possessions, break their trust, whatever it takes.
Now keep doing that. All the time. Every day. Never let the goal of destroying your relationships stray from your mind. Never swerve from it. Ignore the big part of you screaming "What on earth am I doing? This is absurd! This isn't what I want!" Ignore the fact that the goal you're working towards, being isolated and alone, seems hideously unappealing. Just keep destroying those relationships for the entire rest of your life.
That's what it's like for me, except replace 'destroying those relationships' with 'staying alive'.
Maybe if you kept working at it, eventually you'd come to realise that life is worthwhile?
Maybe if you drove away everyone you ever loved, you'd come to realise that being alone is preferable?
Sorry, that was flippant.
You're right of course. There's always the possibility of a brighter future. At several distinct points in my adult life I have made explicit decisions to postpone suicide, not because I wanted to live, but because I hoped X would make me want to live. This includes my gender transition.
Essentially, I have given life a lot of chances, and it has yet to work out.
It would be a disaster for me if I ended up living a whole lifetime, each year hoping that the next year would be better.
But what about the people who care about you!
I'm aware that committing suicide would grieve everyone I care about. It's completely selfish. It would probably be the worst thing I ever did, in terms of net global utility. But that concern is not enough to keep me alive for a lifetime.
Are you worried about an afterlife at all?
I assign high probability to the idea that death results in oblivion. That's partly due to reasoning, partly because it's the outcome I hope for.
To entertain the idea of an afterlife, I think it's worth noting that there are far more possible outcomes than the ones usually mentioned. If we think of it simply as, more existence but with a different set of rules, who is to say that I won't be able to die a second time? Or maybe I wouldn't want to. Maybe I wouldn't remember any of this.
Regardless, I am not going to live a whole lifetime in fear of some afterlife, only to die anyway.
So what now?
I'm going to do some serious weighing of options. I already have a few ideas how I can improve my suicide method compared to previous attempts. I still like the idea of being open and honest about it, so I will probably have some of those gut wrenching conversations. I probably won't be able to have any kind of assistance in the actual suicide, however, as apparently that could get someone charged with complicity in suicide (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_Act_1961).
Maybe I shall make a suicide attempt, maybe I will give life yet another chance. Can't say with any certainty. What I'd like to do right now though, is talk about it.