Sometimes Suicide Means Freedom

I have been thinking. Suicide to mental illness is essentially death to cancer. Just because you have the latter does not mean the former ought to happen. Cancer has chemotherapy and everything that follows suit. On the other hand, mental illnesses have therapy and all that comes with it. You cannot fault a person who has cancer for being unable to get better with chemotherapy. Nor can you fault them for dying as a result. You do not say, “If only X had tried harder to get over cancer.” or “If only Y thought about their loved ones and healed.”. They have given it their best. Nobody’s first choice is to fail. So, should mental illnesses not be treated with the same care and attitude? Because guess what? They want to live as much as you do, despite the never-ending chasm inside them every single day.

Everyone thinks suicide is something one chooses voluntarily. Cowardly. Selfishly. It really and truly is not. When does one die of cancer? When their body gives up fighting. The same applies to any mental illness. Your brain gives up. Your heart gives up. Your soul gives up. Just because it cannot be seen evidently or physically in a manner of your choosing (like in an x-ray or whatever could convince you), it does not make it any less real. It is not that they have not thought about their loved ones, nor do they want to cause their loved ones pain.

Suicide is a choice, I agree. But sometimes it is the only option that the little voice permits you to see, and fighting that feeling continuously, sucks the life out of you. All it takes is one time. One time for that voice to overpower us, and we lose. That is when we end up choosing suicide. Although, I do not see how much of a choice it is at the end of the day.

You will understand what I mean if at least once in your life you have asked yourself, ‘’What if I don’t make it? What if I give up too soon or too late?”. Some of us do not have the luxury of asking these questions only once or twice. Sometimes, it is a continuous fight. And all it takes is that one moment. One moment to feel like a complete and utter failure, forcing us to say enough is enough and give up for good. They say it is so easy to take your life, and to live is the most difficult thing. I disagree. To die is not easy. It is a horrible decision, but imagine the pain and hopelessness behind it to drive a person to accept death as the answer.

Could there be anything more painful than taking your life knowing you are going to cause pain to the ones around you? Knowing you will never do any of the things you love or want to do. So, why do people opt for suicide, one may ask. I cannot answer that, especially because it is not something a person ‘opts’. I cannot answer this because to do so, I should take the plunge. I have reached the brink and stood at the ledge, but could not muster enough courage, whether fortunately or unfortunately who can say. Until I do, I will not understand what goes on in your head right before and during the leap. 

I do not ask you to glorify suicide. There is nothing trendy or fanciful about suicide or mental illness. I am simply asking you to accept that it happens sometimes. It does not mean everyone is headed that way. Try not to blame those mentally compromised, who do fall prey to suicide, because it honestly is not fair to them or others like them. The important thing to remember is that they have fought for as long and hard as possible. That matters in the end.

Everyone’s life struggles are different. Everyone’s will, strength, and threshold are different. One soldier falling does not mean the rest of us are headed in the same direction. We do not have to follow suit. You just have to keep fighting your fight because you are in this battle with the rest of us.