Suicide is just fight or flight. Everybody in the world tells you that you’re not supposed to die, so it gets to be like something you can’t have. I know it seems like a great escape, but it’s not the end goal. It’s not a fantasy wonderland or the love of your life. It’s really just the second-rate thing you settle for when you’re afraid you don’t have any other choice. It’s like that hideous rebound that you hook up with and don’t want your friends to know about.
The first choice –the ultimate destination– is to get free while you’re alive. To have a life that feels good to live. That’s kinda what this site is about. How can a suicidal person actually start to feel BETTER? If you’re already on the edge of death, why not do something radical to change your life in a good way? If you’re working so hard to die, why not apply that same effort to healing yourself? That’s the real question. What has the power to make you feel good…and inspire you so much…that it could set you free? That the shittiness of this world wouldn’t even matter anymore?
Comments/questions are welcome! Morris@SuicideAndSalvation.com.
A lot of people are sad. Good people. Sexy people. Funny people. This is for you. This is not intended for whackos who want to kill a town. Don’t do that. If you want to kill a town, you need a different book. There’s an inverse correlation between murder and suicide, meaning that usually people who contemplate suicide aren’t murderers. Murderers kill towns. Like I said, don’t do that. And you don’t need to kill yourself either. Don’t do that.
Suicidals are mostly the opposite of killers. They don’t enjoy making things die. They’re just ordinary people who are deeply, painfully sad. So this is for the millions —tens of millions— of nice, ordinary, sexy, funny people who just find themselves dreading waking up again tomorrow and don’t really know why or what to do about it.
I’m tired of seeing good people die while the dicks of the Earth march confidently on. And oh how they march. You should know that when you die, that only leaves more vinegar chips for their kids. And sugar drinks. And promotions. They love promotions! The dicks of the Earth love life, and they never have enough time: to push old ladies out of the way, let their kids kick your seat, steal your iPod and shoot you in the back. Everything that makes you want to leave the Earth is exactly what they’re hungry for. You leaving just means one more cow for them. And believe me, they’ll eat every last cow. They don’t like to let any living thing live; that’s how they help you toward your death. It’s the only time they’ll help someone across the street. And there is no such thing as an end to their appetite: for money, for shit, for paperwork and for power.
Just know that your suicide may throw off the entire balance of the Earth, and all of the rest of us will have to live under the rule of the dicks…because you checked out.
Finding what’s really killing you, that’s something that can really disrupt the system. And incredibly simple things kill people in complicated ways. These are the things people bury: truths, memories, grief, anger and dreams. What’s killing you? That’s what has to go, not you. These are the things that, if acknowledged, would change your life. Would really disrupt the system of your life and everything around you. If you really told the truth of who you are, and who you dreamed of being, would you ever go back to work in a cube?
In a strange way, your mind is just trying to save you and protect you –your ego, your mind– from whatever you fear more than death.
Contemplating suicide is just a red alert that you need to make changes. You might need to really shake up your life, make big changes. Change out your friends. Quit everything and begin again.
Your soul –the part of you that can’t seem to function in this world– is like a child standing alone. It has been pushed aside, shoved down; it doesn’t seem to belong; it sees the world differently. Are you standing up for it? Or punishing it? What if instead of killing it, you chose to allow it to live?
I. I’ve been there.
All of my bones were broken, and I had no idea how to peel myself off the concrete.
And who can you talk to, when you feel like that? The people who love you the most will freak out. (and they’re right to). And you don’t want them to stop you.
I felt sudden amnesia, like I couldn’t remember why I had lived before, or how I had done that. So I googled, “Why bother to live?” and read a 45 page discussion thread (it’s probably still there).
I was amazed and disappointed at how people talk about suicide. Although I suppose talking about it at all is better than nothing. Still, there’s actually people out there who’ll tell you to shut up and go do it (who are these trolls? And who sleeps with them? Probably no one, which might be part of the problem).
“We’re all of us sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins, for life” ― Tennessee Williams
All that’s just to say that I’ve been there…and I’m here now. And through the process I realized that there’s a CRAZY number of people thinking about suicide. And the real downer is they’re all my favorite kind of people. Which reminds me:
I’m tired of losing the best people, while the dicks of the Earth march confidently on.
Dicks pick on people & push old ladies out of the way. Should we let them have the whole Earth? They don’t belong here any more than we do.
“What people talk about at the very end of their lives when they’re dying has little to do with art, with work, or even with religion or God. What they talk mostly about is other people. Other people they loved—or failed to love enough. People they hurt and to whom they never made amends. People they stood by and who stood by them. The good times they had with their families and close friends and the bad times they endured with them.” – Dr. Alex Lickmann