Quote: Originally Posted by selfactivated
My favorite subject and heavy on my heart as of late. Ive tried to commit suicide many many many times. Obviously I screwed up many many many times. Sometimes life hurts so bad that ending it feels like the only solution. I stopped wanting to end my existance 5 years ago.
, that's an awful thing to hear from anybody (except for the last sentence), and especially somebody who's as kind and thoughtful as you appear to be. It's frankly beyond my imagination to conceive of a life so distressing that suicide would seem to be a good solution, so I'm not really sure I'm entitled to have an opinion about this, but that doesn't usually stop me...
Terminal illness is quite another matter, and in a case like that it seems perfectly reasonable to me that a sufferer is entitled to decide to bail out of life while it's still possible to make that choice. I'm glad the suicide attempts are among the things you screwed up at, and I'm glad you quit trying five years ago. Even at the lowest point of my life, depressed, miserable, unemployed, away from home and family, abandoned by wife and friends, or at least by the people I thought were friends (turned out they were my ex's friends, not mine), suicide never occurred to me. There's something inside me that keeps saying "never surrender, never surrender, never surrender..." To end your life essentially because you're unhappy I find a deeply distressing idea.
I find it so distressing because it's so unnecessary. The man you describe as your soulmate helped save your life by helping you find something of that "never surrender" in yourself. That means it was always there, he didn't give it to you, you just needed a little help locating it. We all need help sometimes, and if there's any reason at all for our existence beyond the physical and chemical processes that make it possible, that's gotta be it. I think we have to make our own meanings in an indifferent cosmos, and they are to be found in our relationships with others, in what we can do to, with, for, and sometimes in spite of, those we love best.
And now that man lies wounded and ill after a stroke. I don't know what to say about that, so I'll borrow somebody else's words. This is John Jakes from his historical novel Heaven and Hell,
about the U.S. Civil War:
"Every day of our lives , we live with stupid mischance and clumsy melodrama, cupidity, greed, unnecessary suffering. We forget it, we mask it, we try to order it with our arts and philosophies, numb ourselves to it with diversions, or with drink... We try to explain and compensate for it with our religions. But it's always there, very close, like some poor deformed beast hiding behind the thinnest of curtains. Once in a while the curtain is torn down and we're forced to look.
"But life's not logical. Some never see the beast at all. Some see it again and again, and there seems no sense to any of it. But when we look, something happens. What happens is that childhood comes to an end. Parents call it growing up, and they use the phrase much too casually. Growing up is looking at the beast and knowing it's immortal and you are not. It's dealing with that.