Thursday, April 16, 2009

Suicide is Painless

That's the title of the opening theme for MASH, written by Johnny Mandel with lyrics by (the then 14) Mike Altman. It comes from the Movie. Painless Pole- a dentist- declares his intention to commit suicide. They have a mock funeral, and the song is sung in the background. "Suicide is Painless, it brings on many changes, and I can take or leave it if I please."

Suicide has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. My grandpa's brother killed himself in Texas during his twenties. Another of his brothers killed himself after getting some bad medical news- he was in his eighties. I remember being young, and vaguely understanding why a relative was sitting on a different couch with their wrists covered.

"Through early morning fog I see visions of the things to be, the pains that are withheld for me. I realize and I can see..."

When I was in High School, I was on a drug called Accutane for acne. Though it's unclear if Accutane actually causes suicidal/clinical depressions, my own experience seems to indicate that it does. I took aspirins- and a lucky thing, too; that quantity of Tylenol would have killed me.

I remember thinking about my grandpa, my dog, and how the deaths of my dad (when I was 12), and my grandpa (when I was 7), had hurt terribly. Children shouldn't have to deal with death. In my mind, it all seemed very unfair. I was 15 and stupid; and that fucked up sense of entitlement meant a trip to the ER, a drink of Charcoal, and a night in the Pediatric ICU.

"The only way to win is cheat, And lay it down before I'm beat, and to another give my seat- for that's the only painless feat."

I had terrible migraines while on Accutane. Full blown grand mal brain seizures, or so it felt. Everything would get fuzzy and weird. My vision would tunnel, until I could barely see anything- everything coated in dense gray static. Then the headache, the nausea, the sensitivity to light, sound, movement, and tastes. I learned quickly to expect the night of vomiting.

I've never had migraines, except during the time I took Accutane; but even then they were uncommon. I had one within a few months of when I stopped taking it. The migraines say to me that the drugs screwed with my brain chemistry. I firmly believe that Accutane took me from depressed to suicidal- it's something I have to believe, for my own sake.

"A brave man once requested me to answer questions that are key, is it to be or not to be; and I replied 'oh why ask me?'"

I've heard lots about Samurai, and Ancient Romans/Greeks/Egyptians. People always bring up the Burning Monk (or some other "heroic" suicide or attempt), or the terminally ill. I always consider what these things imply, and what they mean to me and in my view.

In societies with strictly regimented honor codes- like the Samurai- there are always "suicide clauses." I see them as pressure release valves for the people who can't cut it, or who are too dangerous. In the South of Modern America there can be some strict social mores; but I wouldn't call them strictly regimented. The pressure release valve here is discretion- "out of sight, out of mind"- or moving somewhere else (Key West, Miami, New Orleans, San Fran, New York, LA, etc etc). Committing suicide to get away from them would be something like killing a cockroach with a howitzer.

As for "Heroic Suicides", I see that as pretentious grand standing at best, and ill conceived stupidity, motivated by anger, more often. Regardless, it's the biggest oxymoron I've ever encountered. In the case of the Burning Monk, he was making a point, and he made it big- but he never made another one. I wonder how many others thought they were doing the same, but no one remembers today.

The terminally ill have a right to decide they want to die with dignity, instead of suffering through months of agony in a hospital bed. That doesn't excuse selfish, otherwise healthy, thirty/twenty somethings or teenagers from trying to take what they see as "the easy way" out. Cowardice is cowardice, shameful and repugnant- especially when it's stupid. A terminally ill cancer patient may find asphyxiation less unpleasant than slowly dying as their insides rot; but to think that suicide is actually "painless" or "easy" is nothing more than stupid: death hurts.

"The sword of time will pierce our skins. It doesn't hurt when it begins; But as it works its way on in, The pain grows stronger...watch it grin"

Suicide is many things. What it always is, what it can't not be, is selfish. Ignoring the emotional pain death inflicts on the survivors goes beyond stupid and uncaring. It implies the statement: "My current pain is worse than anyone else's pain, for the rest of their life, at the loss of me." It's one thing for someone dying of Huntington's Disease to talk about their choice with friends and family, come to an understanding that there is nothing else they can do continue living without suffering terribly, and then take some poison. It's another to hunker alone, unthinking, drowning in self pity, and try to swallow a bullet.

Consider my death.

There are people I know who would forget me within a year or two. There are a few who would still think about me 5 or 10 years down the road. Maybe even one or two people I'm not related to who would remember me as long as they live. My family would never forget. Many of them would blame themselves, increasing their stress levels- rightly or wrongly. My four year old nephew would experience the death of his favorite uncle. I know what growing up with an intimate knowledge of death is like, I'd rather he didn't. I think it would drive my sisters apart, but it might bring them closer together- which might be worse. My mother would freak out. I'd hate to think how my grandma would react.

But I wouldn't care- hard to do that, dead.

Except whatever else I think, I'd like to be remembered fondly, instead of with pity. I really hate pity.

Instead of taking the coward's escape, I can get away for a while, reading a book or watching a television show (even one I hate). I can go fly a kite or hunt for worms with my nephew. I can go online and read something funny, or watch beautiful people do beautifully disgusting things to each other. I can listen to a comedian, or go hangout with friends (or just in a public place).

And if that doesn't work, I could call:
The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
The National Suicide Prevention Hopeline 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433)

Fuck going out easy, anyway; I'd rather do it the hard way and laugh at everyone else when I finish regardless.

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