The Word is "Suicide"
by Daniel Beadle - Thursday, September 6, 2007
“So why don’t you tell me what brought you here today?”Greg Barnes, a man in his thirties, twists the tissue nervously in his hands. He’s lying on the couch, listening to the tick of the clock on the wall. The listener, his therapist, is sitting in shadow behind him, wearing an expensive suit with legs crossed and notebook in hand.
Greg begins speaking nervously. “I don’t know quite what I should do. It seems as if every avenue is somehow blocked.” He sighs and shakes his head as his eyes fall to the floor. “I’m afraid I’ll never be satisfied. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
“You think you have no future?”
“Probably. If I can’t determine my next course of action, then what good will my life be?”
“You have hobbies?”
“Fruitless.”
“Interests?”
“None that are marketable.”
“Skills?”
“…Underdeveloped and non-specific.”
The silence that follows is accented by the ticking of the clock.
“Have you ever considered killing yourself?”
There is a long pause.
“C-Come again?”
“The word is ‘suicide.’ What do you make of it?”
Greg scowls. “Kill myself?”
“You’ve considered it before, haven’t you?”
“Well, I have a certain… capacity for depression.”
“And what stops you?”
“The thought that life could possibly probably get better.”
“Hope?”
“I guess you could call it that, yeah.”
“And now you are telling me that circumstances have evolved to the point where hope is gone again. Without hope, what good is life?”
“But I’m not depressed. Why should I commit suicide?”
“You’re not depressed now. That will change. Of all certainties in life, that one is paramount. Life will always become miserable in time.”
“So you’re suggesting suicide as a means of prevention? A… A preemptive suicide?”
“No. You came to me for advice. You’re telling me that your life has reached an impasse. A roadblock. Your future is uncertain. And with you penchant for moroseness, and all the havoc that reeks on your emotional stability, tells me that suicide is your best option right now.”
“I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”
“Look, this isn’t some… spontaneous knee-jerk here. You have no friends, no relationships. You have no solid standing in this world. You have no desire for a key aspect to conventional survival. Your life has evolved to the point where it no longer has relevance or meaning. Just because suicide is typically the end result of an emotional response doesn’t mean it can’t also be a reasoned conclusion and a viable life option.”
“I’m not depressed, though. The act of taking my own life would have to be an act of passion. It would have to be some heat of the moment reaction to a series of horrific events.”
“Are you sure? Why can’t we just anticipate the eventuality of those events—because we both know they will happen—and use that premise to cancel out how irrational an emotion-less suicide might seem.”
“You said it wasn’t preemptive.”
“It’s not. But thinking of it as such can root out the emotional component of the whole thing." He sighs. “Look, I’ll make it real simple for you: Your life is option less. You’ve lost everything you’ve ever valued, and although you aren’t in the throws of depression, that certainly isn’t a permanent state of mind. With no hope for the future, suicide is a logical course of action.”
“But I don’t want to kill myself.”
“I’m not talking about desire here. I’m talking about necessity. You need to kill yourself in order to avoid other choices, which will undoubtedly lead to a painful life. Death is a safety device. You’ve already fallen. Admit to yourself that you’ve given your life a good run and end it. There are no u-turns, no second chances. The life you had, the life you knew and loved, it’s gone. You’ll never be who you once were.”
“Your logic is flawed. You’re assuming that life won’t change in the future.”
“Not by any noticeable degree.”
“Sure it will. I was happy in the recent past. Prior to that happiness, I was no different than I am now. What’s to say I’m not on the verge of a new happiness? What’s to say that I’m not due?”
“Possible. I’m not saying happiness isn’t possible. All I’m saying is that suicide is reasonable, and, from all indications, necessary. Look at yourself. You know who you are. You know what you’re capable of. Do you honestly think that you are fit to survive your future? That you are strong enough to tackle the immeasurable difficulties that only become exponentially worse for the rest of your life?”
“I get stronger with age. I become more resilient.”
“How can you know that for sure? How do you know that your resources aren’t running out? What’s to say that you haven’t reached your maximum potential? Look at your recent past. Look at how close you came to self-destruction. Over what? Some petty loss. Something that most people wouldn’t care about. You are weak in ways most people can’t even fathom. You are a crippled mess of emotions and inabilities. You have no control over your future, and you have no control over your happiness. With all of your inadequacies, in the face of all that waits to destroy you in this life, how can you honestly tell me that not killing yourself is a good idea?”
There is a long pause.
“I can’t.”
