The "S" word

Disclaimer:  I try to adhere to the dictum, "If it's not about Skeeter, it didn't really happen, and it's not funny, don't post it."  But, somethings just aren't funny and it is my blog after all.  This is neither funny nor about Skeeter–just important (I think).  Oh well–In for a penny, in for a pound.

My husband had a co-worker commit suicide and it threw him for a loop.  I could tell Earl was dying (OK, poor choice of words) to ask me if I'd ever thought of it, but also afraid of my answer.  So I sent him this email instead of saying, "Well, hell yes!" and thus stifling any chance of a dialogue.  Given that we sleep together, an email may seem ridiculously impersonal, but it gave me time to think, write, and think.  Earl had time to think, read, and think.

Earl,

I know your friend is on your mind, wondering how her plan could have been missed. How bad could life have been?  Could you ever inadvertantly overlook important signs from someone you cared about? You wouldn't be inclined to ask me about suicide for fear of planting the idea in my mind, but in fact, it's already there. I do think about it on occasion. I imagine anyone who mourns the loss of what they used to be, does.  I realize I'm annoyingly into email, books, and movies, but they're helpful in illustrating my points, so be tolerant. 

I don't mention suicide to anyone because, the very word scares the bejeebers out of people--particularly loved ones. It's a real conversation stopper. Nasty word--I prefer self-directed exit. As a comedian said regarding domestic abuse,  "I would never hit a woman--but I understand." That's how I feel about self-directed exit--I understand. I don't need assurances from anyone.  I know I am greatly loved and, besides, this is not just my journey--it's yours and our descendants as well.  Not that you asked me, but here's my personal perspective.  

It doesn't matter whether an individual commits or attempts suicide because one feels hopeless, just can't bear the physical or emotional pain of life any longer, or fears losing control and becoming a burden.  I see it as an action with lifelong consequences for those left.  Of the people I know who have dealt with the suicide of a loved one, no one has completely recovered from it.  Even as someone who views guilt as a useless emotion, I'd still feel bad (well, briefly anyway) about being at the center of it.  I also believe suicide is an internal decision and there is little that a spouse, child, parent, sibling, or close friend can do or say to change the feelings that inspire it or a plan if it's carried out. As your friend's tragic death shows, suicide can also be a permanent solution to a transient emotion. We've seen that life can turn on a dime–in both directions. We just never know what's around the bend...

Remember A Single Man, the movie about a midlife college professor grieving the loss of his partner?  After he changes his mind about his well-thought-out (some would say OCD), considerate exit, he puts away any suicidal paraphernalia, tucks in his guardian sleeping friend, then suffers a fatal heart attack.  It's brief and over, affairs in order, no one feels responsible, very neat and clean, and so on.  Who wouldn't sign up for that, if the time was right?

I regret that your father's and my parents' last year of life was frightening, dependent, and painful. I wish they could have exited sooner and more peacefully. I remember the overwhelming relief that came when it was finally over. But, I still feel the loss, miss them everyday, and know you do as well.

In the book, Still Alice, the protagonist is a Harvard professor with Early Onset Alzheimer's. The reason I bring it up is that from the beginning of her awareness of diminishing cognition, she had her exit plan for dealing with the "too late" issue.  If she couldn't answer five questions each day (what is my husband's name?, where do I live?, where is my office?, how many children do I have?, what month are their birthdays in?), she was to open a file on her computer called "butterflies" and follow the directions immediately. The directions said, "Go upstairs, walk into your bedroom closet, take all your pills, and go to bed."  So, when the time comes that she can't answer her questions, she opens the file, goes upstairs, and proceeds to forget why she is there (a little dark humor). So much for the best laid plans. In my mind, "too late" is when one is not cognizant, is incontinent, is terrified all the time and not having a shred of enjoyment out of life. All control is out of one's hands. Who needs it?

So here's my "why suicide likely wouldn't be my choice".  I've been dealt a loss that could also be visited on our offspring. What kind of message would my self-directed exit give?  

–One has no control over Ataxia? (I can't control many things, but I can some)

–Life has no meaning? (There is always hope for a meaningful life, whatever that may look like).

–Everyone's better off without me? (I'm pretty terrific and you guys would miss me).

So, do I always feel this "anti-self-directed exit"?  Mostly, not always

Do I think about it often?  Nope, but on occasion 

Do you need to worry about me?  Nope

Do I expect self-directed exit assistance from you at some point in the future? Nope

Do I need to discuss it?  Nope

Am I open to discussing it?  Always, anytime

The lesson:  It's personal–everyone has their own lesson.