In a recent comment, hiding2014 wrote, “Suicide is never the answer. ” I disagreed. In my personal opinion, there are clearly circumstances when suicide is the best answer. As a former American who feels entitled to human rights, I think I have the right to decide when I want to die. I think that I can choose to end my life, even if I do not have a terminal illness. I have a lot of pompous, self-indulgent ideas about what I deserve to be able to do with my body and soul. But here is what actually happened…
…Six billion people in the world and each of them has their own drama. Some of it is truly horrible, like being sold into slavery by your own family, having your clitoris forcibly sliced off, being imprisoned by a tyrant, being born in a war zone. Then there’s thalidomide babies, Downs Syndrome, asthma. Schizophrenia. Hunger. Loneliness. Everyone has their own individual sufferings. So the question is: Why me? – not “Why me?” as in ‘why did this happen to me?’; but rather, “Why me?” as in “Why was I spared from being sold as a sex slave?” or in the traditional phrasing, “There but for the Grace of God go I”. In the homeless shelter in Texas, the nice Xtian lady asked me a question. She asked, “What is the difference between grace and mercy?” I replied that in the original Hebrew text of her bible, those words are completely different. Mercy is rachumim and grace is chein. So how are they different? I gave it about 10 seconds of thought and said, “Grace is an unearned gift from God. Mercy is what He gives us after we have done something wrong.” I am sure there are better answers, more scholarly answers; but that is what I came up with at just that moment. Grace is an unearned gift from God, and Mercy is what He gives us after we have done something wrong.
So when we talk about suffering as “There but for the Grace of God go I.”, the implication is that God assigns particular trials to each individual person. I was born into a certain family. We have bad eyesight, bad teeth, and alcoholism in our DNA. I was born into a certain country (USA). We have extreme wealth, some freedom of speech, and freedom of religion. I was born female. That is all Day One. This is the backstory for my explanation of why I feel suicide is okay. (moral, allowed, heter, a birthright, permissible)
When I was in the emergency room in Canada, they sent in some woman to assess me, to determine if I was a danger to myself or others. I don’t remember what she asked me, but I replied very calmly that I have a right to take my own life. BAM! Just like that, they Form 1’d me. Form 1 means I was committed to the locked psych ward without my consent for a minimum of 72 hours, more if needed. I didn’t object, actually. I did not care about any of it at that moment. In the ER, I pulled the sheets over my head and pretended to be dead. I was freaking out the staff. I find it funny because surely an ER nurse sees stranger things than me resting like a corpse?
Back to the 6,000,000,000 people on planet Earth…
Life isn’t fair. There are so many people, with such unimaginable problems. But God Himself, Hashem Yitborach, the Creator, saved my life with an open miracle. I had lost at least 2 litres of blood, over 40% of the blood in my body. I had been [unconscious/asleep/dead] for 28 hours – but I ‘woke up’ somehow, seemingly unharmed except for the gaping wound on my left wrist. I wish I had taken a photo of my wound before I phoned the ambulance. Human tissues are really beautiful. As a licensed mortician, I have assisted at a few autopsies. I have been privileged to see inside human bodies. I contend that no person who sees the absolute alabaster whiteness of the human brain could possibly deny the existence of God the Creator. We are exquisite creations. I looked at the beautiful pure whiteness of the tendons in my wrist, via a gaping oval in my skin that was over 4cm across and 2cm wide at its middle. (Yes, even in suicide, I am ever the over-achiever.) And I realized that I needed stitches. I called for an ambulance and went to the ER.
After a good night’s sleep, I decided that I was feeling pretty special. All those people in the world and all their dramas, but God had ‘taken time’ (as if God were confined to act within Time) to give a miracle for me. I felt totally cured of my self-pity. I figured that God had saved me because He loved me and had a special purpose for me. God saved me because I was important to Him, and I was important because God had saved me. There is probably no greater joy in life than to openly connect… for even a moment… with God.
Of course the Narcissist had to ruin it for me.
David said that God had saved me because I was wicked.
I don’t exactly understand his thinking, but it goes something like this: if I had succeeded in dying, my eternal soul would have ascended to live with God. Also, I would have been rewarded for the many good deeds that I had performed during this lifetime. Again, David did not explain his dogma to me. He merely used this whole incident to tell me that even Hashem thinks I am Wicked. How’s that for a Narcissist’s Discard? Classy, huh?
David’s words haunt me. So often I wonder if he is right. In one sentence, he took me from feeling Special to questioning my worth. I know that God is angry with me for trying to take my own life. I thought that since my soul is eternal, it really would not matter if I chose the reset button. But I got overruled. It’s not every day that we human beings are allowed to see open miracles. Too often miracles are concealed in nature, happen on the other side of the world or are not recognized. No-one can deny that my life was spared by a supranatural event, but why? Is it because I am special or because I am wicked? Maybe I am wicked special? (LOL, just kidding.) Fucking narcissists poison every good thing. Even suicide. Now that’s impressive.
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