It’s the one topic we like to avoid. That’s shocking and fascinating us. An that’s polarizing. I don’t like the word “Suicide”. It sounds so scientific and I have to think about genocide. About concentration camps and people in uniforms. But you don’t say “self-murder” because of political correctness. After all, it’s not murder so it’s not a crime. Not punishable and, in my world, not a sin. In German there is a word that could be translated as “free death”. Sounds nice in my opinion. That’s why you’re not supposed to say it, after all you shouldn’t make it sound nice. According to clever people who like to deprive people with mental illnesses of the right of decision, suicide cannot be a free decision as it always has to be a sudden irrational act of a desperate person. That can be the case but it doesn’t have to. So “suicide” it is.
There are people who are shocked when you tell them you have thoughts about suicide. That’s a reason why I started being careful about talking about it. But that’s not good, we have to talk about it! Not even the newspapers do it – in my country there are more than twice as many deaths caused by suicide than by road accidents. It’s possible to research that but there’s nothing about it on the daily news. We have a thousand prevention measures for save driving but you have to care about your own mental well-being (and the vast majority of people who end their lifes are/were mentally ill).
Then again there are people who are metally healthy but still say “Everyone has thought about that, it’s normal.” This statement made me wonder as that’s what it’s been feeling like for years to me. And no, I’ve not been suicidal for years. I think the most important differentiation is: does someone think about it or does a person actually wish or plan to end their life?
For me, there were times when I had a plan and everything prepared and ready. It gave me security: If I can’t take it anymore, there is an escape. I’ll try for one more day. Again and again.
Today I don’t want to end my life. I’m not suicidal. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. I could still do what I planned to. It wouldn’t be a sudden irrational act. I think about it when I go through worst-case scenarios. I wouldn’t involve anyone else, that’s important. I think about it when the subway arrives. How easy it would be, just a little step. I would never do that, it’s just the every-day situation in which the topic is most present.
And I’ve wanted to write about this for a long time but didn’t know where to begin. Yesterday I heard about a young person who did it. He just went on, did what I didn’t do in the end for reasons I don’t know myself. I didn’t know him, he was more the acquaintance of an acquaintance to me. But a real human-being, not an announcement on the underground. I think about him all the time. What has he thought, how long has he been planning it, how did he feel in the end when he knew it would be over soon? And that gave me the impulse to write this. At the time I made my plans I craved for someone to tell me “I also feel that way.” and not being judged for it and I guess that’s what I want to tell people who have the guts to go on nevertheless.