Fair enough, FunkDaddy. Thanks for the honest feedback.
Oh, and for the record, I draw a clear distinction between physician-assisted suicide (as in cases of terminal illness), which implies a clearly structured discussion and analysis of the relative merits of the act, as compared to an individual’s self-diagnosis and prescription of death, which is almost invariably a solo decision made as a mentally unhealthy individual without any objective input. I support the former, and am dismayed at our culture’s inability to discuss it rationally. The latter, though, simply makes me sad. So I suspect we agree more than we disagree, but like so many other issues, we have to be careful about how we define our terms and draw our boundaries.
I think you’ve made a good one, and I never mind being corrected by somebody who makes better points than I do. To tell the truth, no, I wouldn’t do that to an ER staff on a hectic or any other kind of night.
In fact, Neidhart’s idea is growing on me now that I know more of the details.
I’m sorry that you had a bad few moments, but I hope you’ve recovered. Yes, I did read the stats, but no where did I find the statement that “90 percent of suicides have a chemical imbalance”. What it did plainly state was that Mental disorders (particularly depression and substance abuse) were associated with more than 90% of all cases of suicide.
I have already experienced close-at-hand the elderly hospice scene with both my former father-in-law (who had cancer) and my dad whom we buried two months ago. Perhaps if the staff and families knew and respected the wishes of those so ill and restrained themselves against giving life sustaining measures, they would allow the natural death process to proceed. You shouldn’t have to beg to be allowed to die.
Concentrating on my pain alone? No, the pain didn’t stop with me. With each and every person who grieved over Kelly’s or (Joe’s suicide), the harm his action caused doubled each time. I have recovered from the grief, and after 20 some years have pretty much stopped carrying the guilt too, but the profound sadness for him throwing away a lifetime will always remain with me. Instead of becoming a doctor (his dream) and helping others, he brought destruction of his family and inflicted deep pain and sorrow upon others… especially those who loved him.
I don’t know where I stand on physician-assisted suicide; that’s an area I haven’t considered too deeply (most of my mental effort has been figuring out where I stand regarding intervention issues). I agree that there is a very serious problem regarding people’s inability to directly address suicide - the fact that it’s so taboo makes it even more difficult for people to discuss. Unfortunately, a lot of people make the decision to kill themselves without consulting others, especially their loved ones - frequently people feel like they are a burden or that they’re just causing trouble. I think if people were more comfortable coming to loved ones when they were thinking about suicide, it would happen less… it’s less of a burden on the loved ones to talk about it beforehand than it is to leave others hurting at the loss of a genuinely good person who was confused about their options.
In cases of severe physical ailments (especially those that are going to be terminal), I don’t know that I view physician assistance in death as a suicide. Don’t ask me why… just a personal thing. Obviously, on a rational level, it’s the speeding up death in all cases (bringing the inevitable, if you will); but I’m very wrapped up in quality of life. I think I’m too much of a coward to live out my life knowing I’m going to die a painful, early death; but I’d have to take into account the feelings of my loved ones.
I think we’re on the same page - I’m glad you weren’t offended by my post. I thought a long time before I responded to your post specifically; you obviously have a lot personally invested in this topic, and not necessarily because you asked for it. I appreciated your response.
I think this is only a slight hijack, as it does address the topic at hand in a tangential manner… if anyone feels it’s well out of reason, my apologies.
My aunt committed suicide by hoarding morphine given to her by her hospital’s hospice plan and taking a massive dose at the end. She was terminally ill (cancer) with no chance of recovery or remission. Family members were not outraged because we all made our wishes known throughout the years. It was sad that she had to suffer but heroic that she chose to live - and end - her life according to her life’s plan.
My daughter knows all my plug-pulling, no-heroic-measures wishes and I’ve written this in a Power of Attorney medical form (can’t think of the legal name of the form). This isn’t enough for some hospitals or doctors so I’ve made this known to other family members and my closest friends. I would never ask my daughter or anyone close to me to provide pills or the means to my death; this is my responsibility. An organization such as the Hemlock Society can be of help if one is too ill to arrange matters for herself. Websites also provide this information.
There are many AIDS patients who have proceeded to their deaths by suicide. There is press on this, but not enough to realize the scale – AIDS itself is a stigma to some families; adding suicide could be devastating to a family in denial. Most of these patients are in home hospice care and can make their own decisions (autopsies are not performed on those in hospice programs).
It’s such an intensely personal matter, one that should be decided by the individual, not by government or family. I think it’s important to make your wishes known, well in advance of old age or the progression of disease. If you wish to change your mind, make that decision known as well.
I have the utmost respect for my aunt and the care she took while writing last letters, preparing a final will, chosing the date of her death so that out-of-town funeral goers could take the least amount of time off work. She brought her loved ones to her side while she could still tell them that she loved them, rather than having them at her side while in a coma or hooked up to beeping machines.
During the endless Kervorkian cases, doctors stated (after the fact) that pain medication was available, that they would have prescribed whatever the patient required. Sadly this is not the truth. Sometimes no amount of pain medication relieves pain; doctors are reluctant to administer large doses; the patient does not wish to vegetate under medication, but wish to have rational thoughts as they approach death.
This has been an emotional response for me – sorry but I don’t even remember the question asked by the OP!
This is, I think, the one factor that differentiates suicide from any other form of death: the reaction of those left behind.
Take a hypothetical example: a young man commits suicide by driving at high speed into a tree. The manner in which he does this leads the authorities to confirm that it really was a suicide, not an accident.
Young man #2 commits the same act, but in such a way that his suicide is labelled an accident. No one knows it was suicide.
The reaction of the family of young man #1 will differ enormously from the reaction of young man #2’s family, based only on their perceptions of the act. The men are dead; they can no longer influence the feelings of others. The survivors are influenced by their own perceptions.
sparta:
I wonder why this is true. Is it because survivors feel the suicide may have been prevented? I don’t think so… my father died from a cancer that could have and should have been diagnosed before it was too late; in other words, it should have been prevented. Yet, we have no trouble talking about Dad.
Is it because of shame? Stigma? Anger? Suicide is a choice, while my dad did not choose to get cancer. Perhaps people who have never encountered severe depression cannot comprehend the desperation of the act of suicide, as if suicide is something a person does on a careless whim without giving thought to the consequences.
Edlyn:
How, exactly, does one choose to “pull himself up by the bootstraps?” In my experience, major depression is far more painful than the worst physical pain I’ve ever felt (which would be a long, hard labor without benefit of any pain meds). Further, my depression is not curable and now it is no longer even treatable. There is no medication to ease it, though a couple of bottles of cheap wine temporarily help. Yet, if my pain was caused by cancer, most people would empathize with me; most would support me (and possibly even help me) if I made the decision to end my life.
Why do we differentiate between mental and physical pain?
Because mental pain is something that can’t be seen, and really can’t be quantified. Because one can’t place a “number” on it, it’s “unimportant” in the minds of people who lack empathy.
One “pulls himself up by the bootstraps” by making the decision not to allow themselves to continue in the downward spiral of depression. Then they make the decision not to be engulfed by it. One begins to consciously replace each negative thought with a positive statement. Every time it occurs. Emotionally, you make an effort to seek a joy that brings you laughter or a smile. Look for something that you appreciate and allow yourself to take pleasure in it. You deserve it. As you do, you start taking steps away and out from the depression you’re in.
If there are individuals in your life who bring negativity into their relationship with you (i.e. do not respect you, belittle you, show little caring or compassion for you, etc.) or if you just feel drained and tired after spending time with them, walk away from them and end contact with them. If it’s your co-workers, change jobs as soon as you can. If it’s family members, distance yourself from them for as long as you need to. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter who it is if they are unhealthy for you.
Then spend more time with those who’s company you enjoy that make you feel more energized or rested. Help someone else by being a blessing to them even if it’s only to make them smile. Try to do that for one person each day.
It isn’t “easy” to do these things because it isn’t a quick fix and it will require effort and dedication, but you are worth the effort. Every bit of it. And it works. If one is patient with themselves and doesn’t give up, they’ll walk out of that tunnel of darkness.
I do empathize with you, but I couldn’t support you in ending your life. To do so would not be caring, because it wouldn’t be in your best interest or real happiness.
Someone has said that the mind is the battleground. My dad told me when I was young to never underestimate the power of the mind (thoughts) and of willpower. I think they’re both right.
If all this sounds too simple to be of any real benefit, do it anyway. Caring persons shared these nuggets of wisdom with me and now I offer them to you.
I’ve done much work with cognitive therapy, recognizing my negative thoughts and replacing them with rational and positive ones. Honestly, I don’t feel negatively about my life: I recognize how blessed I am. I appreciate every aspect of my life and spend much time each day reflecting on how wonderful my life is. For example, every time I do the dishes, I reflect on how wonderful it is to have hot and cold water, available at an instant in my sink. Every time I do the laundry, I remind myself how wonderful it is to have a washer and dryer in a laundry room in my own house. I remind myself constantly how much I love my husband, my children, my house, etc. I remind myself of the terrible conditions under which other people live, and appreciate everything I have.
I appreciate the fact that I have dishes to wash. I’ve known people who had no dishes. I gave one woman I knew most of my own dishes.
I’m still depressed. This is a physical sensation that cannot be willed away.
Everyone around me is supportive and loving. Though my family lives far away, I know that they love me. I am surrounded by love.
I have dedicated my nursing career to caring for elderly people in my home, to give them an alternative to living in a nursing home. They are happy here: they get to do whatever they wish, they get to eat their favorite foods, they get to sit on the porch in the sunshine, they get to play dominos for hours on end, and they are healthy and happy. I work very hard to make them happy, to improve their quality of life, and to make them feel loved. I do love them; they know it, and they are part of my family. In addition to this, my husband and I give all we can afford to charities. Also, every time I make homebaked bread (a few times per week) I send one loaf to my neighbors across the street. They love it.
I also call a couple of elderly women I know who are lonely. One woman is blind and can’t cook for herself, so I regularly bring her food that she can heat up for herself.
I used to believe this. If I hadn’t, I’d have never married or had children- I would have killed myself when I was twelve years old. How many years, how much wasted hope, must one endure before enough is enough?
What began as a philosophical discourse has become much more real, and much more seriously regarded. I am deeply saddened to read a person literally surrounded by love can yet feel such pain. I want to believe it’s not possible, that it’s somehow explainable, that there is some way to “make it all better.” I want to know there’s a reason for this kind of suffering. And yet my wishes serve no purpose, for I also know, no matter how much I might wish to empathize, the reality is something I would neither hope nor want to fathom.
Mental anguish is not a quantifiable illness; we cannot measure its pain threshhold, we cannot calibrate a patient’s response. We can never truly know what goes on inside another’s head. There comes a point at which we can only offer counsel, and are left with words which, though hopefully offered and earnestly spoken, can only sound hollow, redundant, and hopelessly blithe.
I cannot pretend to know how it feels; I won’t insult by implying I do. I cannot offer much. Yet there is this - a life so giving in nature deserves of its own accord some small measure of joy. Is there no satisfaction in the care given the elderly? Is there no sense of pride in a job well done? Is there no reason to believe the world is better for your existence, your contributions?
Each person’s death diminishes us, each person’s life touches many lives in many ways. It is indeed because of this that most of us choose to live our lives in what we see as an ethically correct manner. What satisfaction we draw from our lives comes in no small part from the positive influence we have on others, in the ways in which we help others, in the ways in which we pass on our own hard-won knowledge, in the ways in which we do for others what they cannot do themselves. The ways in which we love.
Each of these relationships comes full circle as we realize there are those who have helped us, and who are with us now and continuing to support us.
I want to believe the willful taking of one’s own life pales as an alternative to a rich and varied life. I want to believe that, but I know it just doesn’t seem that way to some. I offer neither justification nor damnation in that case, but I come away with a greater sense of sorrow and a deep and abiding fear of the depths to which this human condition can sometimes sink.
Thank you for accepting my words with the kindness they were meant to be expressed in. Your response said so much about you and the wonderful person that you are.
What I’m going to say next I’m not sure you’ll understand, but it crossed through my thoughts while I was typing my previous response to you. I wonder if your spirit misses Home. Some of us miss it more intensely than others and perhaps this is true for you.
Quixotic: thank you for your kind words. Yes, I do get much satisfaction out of life. My influence is small (I can’t change the whole world) but I appreciate being able to give small comforts and I try to bring a little happiness into other people’s lives. Still, this satisfaction is on the surface: it doesn’t reach down deep where the pain lies. I learned, many years ago, how to live a “surface” life, to carry on. In my mind, I liken this to swimming on the calm surface of a lake while knowing that just below me, the lake contains rotting logs and rocks and other horrors. I try not to look down, I try not to let my feet touch the bottom. Oh, but I’m just weary.
Edlyn: thank you, too, for your kindness. I have no sense of a Spirit that will survive me, but I do long to sleep. In a sense, what you mentioned does strike a chord with me, as I can’t remember how it was to feel connected to this world, as if I’m a balloon tethered here by a string. I feel like I’m just biding time until I can escape- and why does it have to take so long?
Well, this isn’t much of a Great Debate now, so I guess we’ll wrap it up. I appreciate the opinions of everyone who’s posted here.
Bad moments, no. Irked by what I presume is your disregard for others’ point of view, yes. I had assumed you were aware that mental illness and substance abuse are directly correlated with dysfunctional brain chemistry. Some links…
http://www.pendulum.org/articles/dmn_no_myth.htm -Biology Gone Bad
In regard to the natural death process…from my perspective as a health care worker, death with dignity is something most medical professionals and families want for the folks in their care . But when one considers that simple things like IV fluids, antibiotics, etc. can extend the death process (in some cases almost indefinitely) it becomes obvious that it is extremely difficult for all the people involved in any individual death to reach consensus as to what construes requisite end-of-life measures.
Now, the reasons (as I see them) that suicide is regarded with such distain and anger in western culture are manifold; most people have difficulty accepting death in any form, many people are ignorant as to the cause(s) of suicide, and many people are unable to see past their own emotional reactions definitions of morality and actually empathize with the suicide him/herself.
Example. Within the last five years four people that I cared for died. My grandfather finally succumbed to COPD, my grandmother (who was 94, very frail, and had lost most of her senses) slipped away in her sleep one night. My best friend, after suffering through years of painful treatment for leukemia, decided not to continue that treatment and died (at the age of 33) in her own home, surrounded by her friends, my lover (who had battled acute depression all his life) was in such misery that he finally ended it with a bullet in the brain.
I neither wanted any of these people to die, nor did I want them to suffer. In every case I was unable to reconcile either of these feelings, but given a choice, I would rather have had my loved ones choose to die than have to suffer further. Why would the pain I suffered at their death take presidence over theirs? All of the people I mentioned made choices that lead (dirctly or indirectly) to their own demise. I can no more justify their actions than I can my own reactions. Justification isn’t even an option when I consider that they all made the choice that they considered best for them.
I know I’m jumping in here well into this thread, but I do want to point out that a person’s attitude toward suicide is also greatly influenced by his/her cultural upbrining.
Well, in some cultures (like Japan), suicide is viewed much less negatively than in most Western cultures. To some, commiting suicide would be the only preferrable/beneficial thing to do - for example, to preserve the honor of the family name.
Not that I necessarily agree with the above sentiment - just wanted to point out the impact that culture has on people’s views towards suicide.