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Roaming through this darkness I’m alive but I’m alone Part of me is fighting this But part of me is gone

JoAnneLeave a comment

CF47134653_129807071131“You did not fear death. You stepped in its path, but without really desiring it: how can one desire something one doesn’t know? You didn’t deny life but affirmed your taste for the unknown, betting that if something existed on the other side, it would be better than here.”
― Édouard Levé, Suicide

Sometimes the only way to stop hurting is to stop breathing, sometimes there is nothing left in this world. Continue reading “Roaming through this darkness I’m alive but I’m alone Part of me is fighting this But part of me is gone” →

A chilling choice

JoAnneLeave a comment

CF47134653_129807071131“The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill themself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill themself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.” ― David Foster Wallace

Roaming through this darkness I’m alive but I’m alone Part of me is fighting this But part of me is gone

JoAnneLeave a comment

CF47310410_127838042151This is in memory of my Brother Mark. He was 43 years old when he took his life. Mark had suicidal tendencies. And that is a world where the desire to live in this painful place is almost entirely absent. Towards the end, his world was black and the light never returned. He had become hopeless. He had become suicidal and the desire to live was absent entirely. The light that had once shone out of his eyes was gone. Forever. The darkness took over and my brother was gone. And we still don’t know why

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=41056980

Everything seems to be happening on the other side of this grey fog and I feel like I’m miles away from everyone else. I’m stuck in……. darkness.

JoAnneLeave a comment
Mark April 1988
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. “Does any man have the right to dispose of his own life? This is the ultimate question of moral entitlement, and relevant only if right is relevant in this context, and it is not. A suicidal man cannot be concerned – and nor should he be – with questions of moral entitlement. (And how absurd.) His one concern should be whether self-execution will most expediently relieve his suffering.”
Author: Antonella Gambotto Burke

 

CF47134653_129807071131“Killing oneself is, anyway, a misnomer. We don’t kill ourselves. We are simply defeated by the long, hard struggle to stay alive. When somebody dies after a long illness, people are apt to say, with a note of approval, “He fought so hard.” And they are inclined to think, about a suicide, that no fight was involved, that somebody simply gave up. This

Depression

                                                                                                                      “While traveling, a new destination would seem more desirable to you than wherever you were, right up to the moment you got there and found that your dissatisfaction had followed you: the mirage had shifted to the next stop-over point. Yet your preceding stops would become more attractive as you got further away from them. For you, the past would be forever improving, the future would draw you forward, but the present would weigh you down.”
― Édouard Levé, Suicide