I’ve been living with a tendency toward suicide for about 2 decades. From a young age, what ought to have been teenage angst has turned into a lifelong struggle for sanity. Last saturday, I finally suffered a psychological break. This makes me realize how sane I have been all along. It’s caused me to dive deep into exploring my propensity for the morbid act of suicide.
In times that I’m trying to build on my life, trying to ignore my struggles and everything that stands in my way, I’m quite optimistic. In those times, I believe there is some grand purpose to it all. Something to be learned or gained.
After Saturday, I’ve become very pessimistic. ‘Grand purpose’ becomes ‘I must be a plaything for demons’. Hope is understood to always be false in my reality. And so choosing to continue to hope and have faith becomes a huge risk because the loss of hope is devastating while hopelessness prepares me for the worst, and causes me not to react, even if only out of understanding that bad things always happen to me.
I ponder existence itself; wondering why I keep my faith on the promise of eternity in paradise. I don’t feel that I need to live in paradise. I would rather not have existed at all. And rather than paradise, I see annihilation as a greater reward. But my God, the one I have chosen to believe is the creator of all that is, has determined I deserve eternal conscious punishment, or paradise, dependent on my choice to accept Christ’s sacrifice. But I say, “a creature with no choice in it’s existence, or it’s nature, or it’s environment, deserves eternal punishment.” And putting the blame on Satan seems to be an excuse for the life He determined I will live.
I believe I’ve finally reached my end, and made the decision that I will leave this place. I’m not doing it today, and perhaps no day soon. The time isn’t set, and I’m not going to be disappointed if something happens that makes me want to live. But im comfortable now, in Death’s embrace. And I’m hoping to enjoy some peace, for the first time in my life, and calmness, before I go. I feel it’s the least life can give me, for all the suffering it’s put me through.
Despair seems a dark and dreadful thing, until you let it take you. Then it helps you understand how suicide can be the most reasonable thing. But part of my mind still wants to hold on and is telling me that they’re all lies. Show yourself in my life then, Lord. Show me why I should want to live. Why should I want to be in paradise with you, when all I’ve known was suffering. How is any amount of joy going to replace all of my pain and my shame and my grief? Why would it not have been better for me to not have been born at all?
If my life can be characterized by it’s suffering, is it not better to take away the possibility of future suffering?
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Hmmm, you make some points I might agree with, but I’ve survived a couple of breaks myself. There’s more to endurance than just whether the suffering is too much. There’s more to reaching an end than whether it is the ultimate end.
When you remove the oppertunity for suffering, you remove the oppertunity for anything else of interest also. I’m also a much bigger fan of the void than anyone who pledged themselves to the light has any right to be. The void is simply more appealing than 99% of what is good or evil. It simply absorbs all of the pain and absurdity, what a good void it is to me.
Do we ask too much of God? I wonder, I wonder. He asks us not to covet, and this is something I’ve struggled with, because I have covetted. A life less painful, that I have covetted often. Covetting is a sin. Maybe I’m more sinful than I was willing to admit.
and in the depths of insanity, we come to personify it. So that’s on us.
I still want to get out though, still have that faint idea that I might pull my old bones up again.
If not me doing it, maybe someone else, maybe someone on a sacred mission. Weirder things have happened to me before.