The Selfishness of Suicide

This past week the world was rocked by the untimely death of the well-known and loved comedian, Robin Williams, a tragic suicide. In light of his death, my Facebook, news feeds, blogs and Twittersphere have been inundated with comments and articles on suicide. There seem to be only two views. On one hand, some believe suicide is the most selfish act a person can commit, done without regard for and leaving behind loved ones, friends and family to mourn. On the other, a myriad of personal stories of the struggles of depression and how at some point, suicide seems to be the only option a desperate act to end the despair. These articles and viewpoints make some solid arguments but also miss the entirety of the selfishness of suicide.

Suicide is not always about depression. Sometimes, it really is nothing more than an extremely selfish act designed not to end their own suffering but to inflict it on others. The soon to be divorcee who is going to teach their spouse a lesson. Embracing some sick belief that killing themselves in front of their soon-to-be-ex will inflict some massive degree of pain on their life; ensuring they never live happily ever but, only with the everlasting torture of that final image of suicide. Or, the parent, temporarily angry at life, the spouse, the job, etc and in a fit of rage, decides to take their life on their child’s birthday, forever scarring what should be a day of celebration.  Unfortunately, these are real examples, people who did not suffer from depression or mental illness but only their own selfish motives.

Some don’t argue the selfishness of their own suicide. Dr. Jack Kevorkian assisted several individuals in what was often referred to as “assisted euthanasia”, ensuring a peaceful transition from this life to the next. There is certainly large amount of criticism and skepticism around his practices and widespread debate on whether his assistance was right or wrong, a selfless or a criminal act. We are not here to debate those things. I use him as an example only because of his recognition and his underlying concept, the right to die. Proponents believe we should have the ability to enable our own selfishness in these instances; a simple concept that holds, just as we have the right to live, we also should have the right to decide when enough is enough and leave this life, by our own design. Primarily, this concept is meant for those who suffer from debilitating, terminal illnesses that have severely hindered their quality of life. For these people, death, moving on to the next life, whatever they may believe that is, is a much better option than the pain and suffering they are enduring in their last days. One could also argue that it is the survivors who are selfish, not allowing them this relief, for our own fear of losing someone we love, not wanting to let go. Regardless of agreement of disagreement, some degree of understanding can certainly be garnered when these situations are experienced personally.

Depression is real. Yes, the world is full of people who blame this disease for their own laziness and use it as an excuse to make the same poor decisions over and over again, causing the same undesirable results. They are selfish people and have found a crutch to support their self-inflicted despair. They refuse to change their path, to help themselves, to break the cycle. We can not help those who refuse to help themselves. Most unfortunately, these abuses along with a mass misunderstanding of mental disease have allowed those of us who do not suffer to undermine the seriousness of those who are inflicted.

Those who suffer from depression do not want to, they do not want an excuse, they do not want to suffer any more. Ask a true sufferer or a survivor of this mental disease and they will tell you, they would do whatever it takes to be rid of it. Whatever. It. Takes. Depression takes on an ugly form, zapping away both emotional and physical energy. The outlook on life is bleak, you cease to care, you’ve never felt more alone. Depression feeds on despair, it alters your entire outlook of the world. For most of us, the sun is shining, the sky is a beautiful blue, the clouds are dancing to our favorite song. With depression, you only see dull, gray skies covered in menacing clouds that look like they are ready to dump all of life’s whoa on you, every damn day. You’re edgy, you’re uneasy, you’re easily annoyed. Even those you love, you friends, your family your co-workers become that nails-on-a-chalkboard sound you just can’t stand. You motivation evaporates, you isolate yourself. Justification becomes a sneaky little devil, whispering lies to your broken mind. “I deserve to feel this way, I’m only miserable because I really am a horrible person. I am an ugly person.”  Death becomes a way out, a way to escape the pain and suffering of life. Death is the answer to whatever it takes….

And we, you and I who don’t suffer, we can do more.

A short story, a giant revelation:

A few months ago I had the opportunity to visit Denver, Colorado for a work conference. That afternoon, as the cabbie took me downtown to my hotel, I noticed several dozen people standing next to several large storage containers, precariously angled and positioned in an odd arrangement.

"What’s going on here?", I asked.

"That’s some of the art they have downtown, we have stuff everywhere. Denver is an art centre."

"No, I said, all those people, what’s going on this afternoon?"

"Oh," he replied, "they are all homeless."

Holy shit! I literally had never seen anything like it. There were literally dozens and dozens of people in this little square and tucked away in the corners of downtown Denver’s cloud-high office buildings. I had seen homeless people, one here, another there, but never like this before.

We arrived at the hotel, I rushed to my room, freshened up, changed my clothes and headed down to meet the rest of our team who had been there since the conference had started a few hours earlier. When the end of the day finally came, it was already 10pm and I was famished. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I had planned to eat lunch  when we changed planes but with an unexpected delay, I had less than 10 minutes to make my connecting flight. With the time change, it had been a good 13 hours since my last meal. I ran back up to my room, changed back into my casual attire and headed out onto Denver’s downtown shopping center, 16th Street, to satisfy the grumbling in my belly. I hopped across the street only to find the bar’s kitchen had already shut down but the Hard Rock Cafe just a couple blocks down the road was suggested. I turned around, walked out of the door and headed up the street.

I hadn’t made it two blocks when one of the dozens of homeless approached me:

"Hey man," he pleaded, "can you just talk to me? I’ve been out here for three hours asking. I just want someone to talk to me."

"Ah man, I can’t right now," I replied, "but I’ll be back."

And I walked on, my eyes focused on the bright neon lights of the Hard Rock Cafe just a couple of blocks up the road.

I made it to the cafe and within a few short minutes was seated on the glassed-in rock room on the second floor; surrounded by guitars, gold records, concert posters and other memorabilia from many of the legends of rock, sipping on the cold, sweet taste of flavored tea and eyeing the biggest damn meal I could find on the menu. As I sat waiting for my meal to arrive I did my best to keep my mind occupied, reading emails, texting a buddy, checking my Facebook.

My wait was short and I had food at last! What a relief! Here in front of me sat a pile of hot wings, a side order of onion rings, potato boats and bruschetta. I grabbed that first wing and ripped it apart like a rabid dog…..and immediately lost my appetite. WHAT A SELFISH FUCKING PRICK!

Since the moment I walked away, all I could hear in my mind was that man’s pleas. “Hey man can you just talk to me? I’ve been out here for three hours asking. I just want someone to talk to me.”

Here I was, sitting at a nice restaurant, eating a high priced meal on the company’s dime, wearing my third set of fresh clothes for the day and resting in the comfort that I was going to get a good night’s rest in a plush bed after a nice, relaxing shower. I was a hundred times more fortunate than that man. There was no telling the last time he ate, had a hot shower, a fresh pair of clothes or a bed under an actual roof to sleep in and be sheltered from the elements. He hadn’t asked for money, he hadn’t asked for food or alcohol or cigarettes. This man had asked, simply, for someone he could talk to, a friend, if only temporarily. I wouldn’t give him a measly few minutes of my time for my own selfish reasons.

I packed up what was left of my meal, paid my bill and headed back out onto 16th street to find him. The meal was his, a token of my sorrow, as was all the time he wanted to talk that evening. I spent the next 45 minutes walking up and down those few blocks looking for that man, even venturing into the alleyways and side streets. I never found him.

I think about that man every day, the loneliness in his eyes, the desperate pleading in his voice. I don’t know if he was just lonely or suicidal. I’ll never know. I know he pleaded with me and even though I could plainly see his despair, I turned him away anyway. What I should have done is stopped and talked to him for a few minutes. What I should have done is invited him to share a meal with me. What I should I have done is put my own selfishness aside. Maybe I can’t fix his homelessness but I can still listen, I can still care about his mental well-being, I can still be a friend.

I wonder whatever happened to him? Did he ever find someone to talk to him? What if he didn’t?

This man asked for someone to talk to, plainly and bluntly. Yet, I still failed to hear him.

According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, between 50% and 75% of people who attempt suicide tell someone of their intent. They aren’t as direct as this man. They don’t scream “I’m going to kill myself”. The signs are often much more subtle. Ultimately, they have the same needs as this man did; to just talk to someone, to know someone cares, to know someone will listen and will support them and will help them get the help they need. Are you so wrapped up in your own selfishness that you are missing the opportunity to listen?

We will never understand every reason why. We may never prevent every suicide committed out of loneliness, depression and despair but, we sure can try. We can become better educated and understand the signs of a troubled soul. We can reach out to those who may need nothing more than to know someone cares. We can stop and listen when reached out to and we can put one hell of dent in that Son of a Bitch called suicide. We only need to realize that sometimes, we are the selfishness of suicide.  

Suicide, regardless the cause, is a disastrous, nocuous demon. When it rears its ugly head it is painful, both for the person who suffers from those thoughts and the ones left behind. We are here not to judge but rather, charged with love. It is our duty, as neighbors, friends and family, as brothers and sisters, to be compassionate; to those already gone, to those suffering today, to those left behind.

For more on the signs of suicide, check out the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention’s website here:

https://www.afsp.org/

https://www.afsp.org/preventing-suicide

https://www.afsp.org/understanding-suicide/risk-factors-and-warning-signs

Or, visit or call your local Suicide Prevention Center.

A response to Joshua Feuerstein's "Dear Mr. Atheist ... allow me to destroy evolution in 3 minutes!"

Originally Published June 19th, 2014

HOMO! HOMO! HOMO!

Last week my teenage son had some questions for me, in particular about being gay. Like most conversations involving the inquiring mind of a teenager, I’m not exactly sure how it started or why. Nonetheless, the primary basis of his inquiry was to whether people choose to be gay. I didn't want to get too complicated and lose his attention but at the same time, I thought this brought about several issues we should discuss. So please, excuse the simplicity of this article, as it's not meant to be an in-depth, heavily referenced and cited piece.  I also thought this worth sharing. Thus, our conversation ensued:

For ease, let’s address this in four simple parts.

Part 1: Do you choose to be gay?

"Do me a favor," I said, "answer me one question: What’s your favorite color?"

"Orange", he replied, without hesitation.

"Why?", I asked.

He pondered this for a minute…."Hmmmm, I don’t know," he said, "it just is."

"So, you didn’t just wake up one day and decide, from this day forward, orange is my favorite color?"

"No."

"This is a pretty simple example," I said, "so let’s do another. You have dozens of girls in your school to “choose” from for a girlfriend, right? Yet, one stood out above all the rest. Did you choose to be attracted to her?"

"No, I just am. I like her the most."

"But, you have so many other girls to choose from, why don’t you just pick another?"

"I don’t like them like that."

"Why not? Can’t you just choose a different one?"

I could see the wheel’s turning and with thought he asked; "well, then why do some people say that a gay person chooses to be gay?"

Part 2: Why do some people think being gay is a choice?

First, most religions throughout the world, condemn homosexuality. The United States is most heavily influenced by Christianity and so for us, our main religious focus. Biblically speaking, Christians generally believe that homosexuality is a sin and this is supported by several passages in the Bible. Various interpretations label laying with another man, as with woman, or a woman with a woman, as a detestable act, an abomination, immoral and shameful. Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed by God himself over their sins, largely including homosexuality. To add fuel to fire, many also believe, that all sin is a choice; you choose to lie, covet, steal, worship idols, deny God, murder and host of other sins. Since, homosexuality is condemned as a sin, it must follow that to be gay is a choice. And if being gay is a choice, then a person can just as easily choose not to be gay.

Second, Christian or not, many supporters of homosexuality being a choice are quick to point out that scientist, despite years of looking, have never discovered a “gay gene” in our DNA,. If there is no “gay gene” inherent to our DNA make-up, like, say, our eye, hair or skin color, then, it is reasoned, being a homosexual must be a choice. In short, no “gay gene” is interpreted to mean no one is born homosexual.

"Ok, so then, what do you think?", he asked.

Part 3: What I think….

What do I think? I’m not really sure, I don’t really care (more on that soon). If you do your research, you will find homosexual advocates of choice. They not only will agree that being gay is a choice but will tell you from their own personal testimony that they themselves chose to be gay. I’m sure that very well is true, for some people. I would assume even more so in the case of those who identify as bisexual. But I don’t know, that also assumes they had an equal attraction to both a man and a woman and chose the same sex…,I’m now sure how true that can be. Is it any different from liking two women for me, but choosing to pursue one?

From what research I’ve seen, most (homosexuals) would argue that it is not a choice, it is who they are; part of them they can not change regardless of desire. I tend to lean toward it not being a choice, no different than many of the aspects of our life, and who we are. Sure, we may not have found a “gay gene”; then again, we haven’t found a straight gene either. We haven’t found genes for a number of things; my love for pizza or disdain for spinach, diseases such as diabetes, cancer, schizophrenia or depression, preferences and/or ability for sports, actors, musicians or, why some people prefer science why others prefer the arts.

Part 4: What Really Matters (Why I don’t really care why or how you’re gay):

Rick Warren said: “Our culture has accepted two huge lies. The first is that if you disagree with someone’s lifestyle, you must fear or hate them. The second is that to love someone means you agree with everything they believe or do. Both are nonsense. You don’t have to compromise convictions to be compassionate.”

God’s greatest commandment was to love Him, his second to love one another as you love yourself. He didn’t say love everyone but those horrid sinning gay folks. It’s a pretty simple commandment. It should apply whether you’re religious or not. If you are religious then you also understand that we are all sinners, we are all doomed for hell and we are all worthy of His forgiveness. John 3:16 says; “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” I’m sorry, I don’t see an “except homosexuals” clause…now we could go on and on but I’ll spare you the Bible Verse sparring session...Loving one another should be enough.

I wanted my children to understand one thing, above all others: there is no place for hate. Homophobia is absolutely senseless. What could possibly be wrong about two people loving one another? Being gay is not a value to judge someone’s worthiness of your friendship or love. Honesty, integrity, commitment, motivation, passion and courage; these are some of the many character traits of a good person. I know a lot of straight people who lack them, all. I hope they never lose the chance of a great friend because they judged them for being gay before really taking the time to discover who they really are.

Whether you are heterosexual or homosexual, religious or secular, we are all worthy of being loved and there is just simply no place for homophobia and hate. You don’t have to agree on whether being gay is right or wrong or, whether being gay is a choice or ingrained at birth. I’m not asking you to change your mind, I’m just asking you to love, unconditionally.

100MPH Techno Hump?!?!?!?

Ummm.....what?!?!?!?!

What the hell does it mean?

Like most stories, it’s much funnier seen then told. …maybe someday I’ll tell the story...or someone will tell it for me…it’s as ridiculous as it sounds and yet typical me...

What can you expect reading this blog?

A little of everything….

I’m slightly crazy, a bit of nerd, a lot of fun. Nothing extraordinary and even less ordinary. My face hurts from laughing and smiling. I have my rants and my raves. I only have two moods, happy or mad. I love everybody, until I don’t. I say what I mean and mean what I say. Crassly blunt. I’m misunderstood. I can be a real asshole and your best friend. Genuine intent but often harsh advice; life lessons, some plain ol’ common sense. Praising the intellects, calling out the idiots. Ignorance can be remedied, stupidity can not. I’ve learned a lot from my own mistakes. I’m a hypocrite; better at preaching than practicing. I’m educated. I never stop learning. If I made you think, I have succeeded. I love playing devil’s advocate. I’m steadfast in my beliefs. I enjoy a good debate. I’m hard headed. I reserve the right to change my mind. Some of you will applaud me, more of you will hate me. I’ll piss you off. You’ll piss yourself laughing. I have kids and they do some pretty comical shit. I’m an immature, big kid at heart and give them a run for their money. “Hold my beer and watch this” is a great idea. Hesitation is not. We can do anything if we put our minds to it. Some things we should never do. I’m all over the board. I’m right where I need to be.

So sit down and strap in, you’re in for a hell of a ride.