Suicide

Our friend Anti-Barney has just posted a fascinating and thoughtful piece on suicide (it’s also slightly disturbing - one hopes it should not be taken as any kind of sign…) and in my attempt to reply I decided that maybe I should air my thoughts on home turf instead.
___
In another reply to AB’s post (Update - the replies have been posted at a different entry - click here to see them and scroll right down) Kim Ayres is adamant that suicide is a selfish act, and he’s right. The thing is, however, it is rarely (if ever) done out of a perceived selfishness... the perpetrator surely believes that what he is doing is in everyone's best interests. In truth there are very few truly selfless acts – any charity or supposed self-sacrifice usually has the added side-effect of feeling good about oneself – and, yes, ending your own pain may be a huge factor in taking your own life but for the most part the desire to cease being a burden on other people is the massively motivating factor.
___
Let’s get it out in the open - I have been there, and seriously, when I was 16. We're not talking 'cry for help' or anything. In fact I took great pains to keep my plans to myself. It was never going to be anything as fallible as pills or a razor, and I wouldn’t have had a clue how to get hold of a shotgun. The high cliffs where I had gone on holiday with my family seemed like the perfect option… and so I planned it all – the best time to go out on my own, when there would be no-one else around; the highest point with no random ledges that might break my fall too soon; even down to wearing the oldest tatty clothes I had so I wouldn’t ruin anything decent that could be passed on…
___
I have often thought about that strangely surreal night, when there was an almost full moon much larger than I remember seeing before or since. I can still picture it clearly as I walked with purpose to the spot. The plan was simple… keep walking until about a hundred yards away and then start running – and just don’t stop. Except the one thing I hadn’t expected somewhere so remote at such an ungodly hour… someone in the way.
___
It was that sheer chance meeting that kept me from following through. Instead of instantly running I stopped still for a moment. The stranger called out a hello and walked toward me. And talked… I don’t even remember what about. It was just one of those clear pure voices that kind of lulls you, calms you. For a mere three or four minutes, that’s all, although it seemed longer. And then she said a goodbye and walked off. The opportunity to carry out my plan had arrived but the desire had gone – in fact, the very idea seemed to have left me.
___
And that was what stopped me from killing myself - not cowardice, but a random stranger who gave to me much more than they will ever know. I saw her again over the last two days of my holiday, just to nod too from a distance, but I still think about her from time to time and wonder if she even had the faintest idea of what my intentions were that night?
___
It’s taken me years since then to reconcile my actions and the feelings that prompted them. I frequently still feel like a burden to others, I still suffer from the same problems that haunted me back then. I often still come across like a complete twat to people I meet because of a degree of social ineptitude (I’m sure that’s why I love blogging so much… it’s nice to have a safety barrier) but now I find other ways to deal with it. Back then I thought my mother’s life would be far easier if I wasn’t there to fuck things up. Now I know that even though it’s actually true my mother would be so devastated that any good would be more than outweighed.
___
It’s so easy to see now, but it really wasn’t back then. Selfish or not, those who commit suicide will always be pitied by me, not scorned. Because I have genuinely been there, and at times like that you really, truthfully, cannot see any other way…
___
Cheers m’dears!