T
Tulsa Sam 52
Member
- May 9, 2021
- 12
I read so often about our common hesitancy to take that final step. I believe the fear of death, or rather the fear of the unknown, is hard wired into our brains. The human brain HATES uncertainty. But I think the taboo of suicide and its discussion also keep us here because it seems uncommon, though it is actually one of the most common causes of death. We read about murders every day, but we are far more likely to kill ourselves than be killed by someone else.
To try to normalize it a little more I set the timer on my phone for 11 minutes, which is how often (on average) someone here in America ends their life, then I keep it next to me. When it goes off, which it will surprisingly often, I think, "Well, someone just CTB'd", then I reset it again. As I let the alarm go off over and over and over during the evening while I watch TV (or whatever I'm doing) I am struck by how often the alarm rings. Indeed it eventually becomes annoying, having to reset the darn clock every eleven minutes
Its as if someone who considered air travel to be unusual and dangerous went to a busy airport and spent several hours watching planes take off and land every few minutes. They may not jump on the next plane, but they will see how many other people do fly, and it might lessen their fear a little.
I am not suggesting it will totally eliminate the fear of death, because it won't and nothing will, but it will make it less "strange" when you count how many other people succeed in crossing that boundary every eleven minutes 24/7/365. So instead of feeling like the isolated "odd man out" you will realize how much company you have.
This world just doesn't work for some people; often the good and the sensitive. Too often it is not that we do not fit the world; the world does not fit us. It is said in this world it is dog-eat-dog, but not all of us are dogs. Some of us are doves or the gentle sheep Jesus talked about -- and we do not eat each other. I won't say we are too good for this world, but perhaps this world is too wicked for us.
It might be well to remember the words of Jiddu Krishnamurti, "It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society".
For me it is no longer academic. My wife and I are being destroyed by a well planned and expertly crafted insurance fraud scheme by a rehab center here in York, Pennsylvania. While I believe I have a good attorney, should he fail, my wife will be trapped there for the rest of her life and I will be homeless. I have written about it on a previous post so I won't repeat myself. But if they succeed, and this is a well-worn strategy with nursing and rehab facilities so they may, I will lose everything. And being 73, homeless and unable to free my wife for the rest of her life is already death, but a living death. If I'm going to die I prefer to die into the next world. So my SN will get to do what I bought it for five years ago. In the meantime I want to watch the planes take off; watch my fellow passengers go out of this life, if only to know how not alone I am. It may make it perhaps a tiny bit easier.
Every eleven minutes someone here in the U.S. has the courage to take the leap into the unknown* so how hard can it be? Well, terribly hard, but at least I realize how many fellow passengers are changing addresses with me. At any rate that alarm every eleven minutes is a fair antidote to believing I am an oddity. If there is a special arrival gate for suicides in the next life it must be very busy.
* Those counted are the successful suicides. If you want to include the failed attempts set your alarm for about every twenty seconds.
To try to normalize it a little more I set the timer on my phone for 11 minutes, which is how often (on average) someone here in America ends their life, then I keep it next to me. When it goes off, which it will surprisingly often, I think, "Well, someone just CTB'd", then I reset it again. As I let the alarm go off over and over and over during the evening while I watch TV (or whatever I'm doing) I am struck by how often the alarm rings. Indeed it eventually becomes annoying, having to reset the darn clock every eleven minutes
Its as if someone who considered air travel to be unusual and dangerous went to a busy airport and spent several hours watching planes take off and land every few minutes. They may not jump on the next plane, but they will see how many other people do fly, and it might lessen their fear a little.
I am not suggesting it will totally eliminate the fear of death, because it won't and nothing will, but it will make it less "strange" when you count how many other people succeed in crossing that boundary every eleven minutes 24/7/365. So instead of feeling like the isolated "odd man out" you will realize how much company you have.
This world just doesn't work for some people; often the good and the sensitive. Too often it is not that we do not fit the world; the world does not fit us. It is said in this world it is dog-eat-dog, but not all of us are dogs. Some of us are doves or the gentle sheep Jesus talked about -- and we do not eat each other. I won't say we are too good for this world, but perhaps this world is too wicked for us.
It might be well to remember the words of Jiddu Krishnamurti, "It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society".
For me it is no longer academic. My wife and I are being destroyed by a well planned and expertly crafted insurance fraud scheme by a rehab center here in York, Pennsylvania. While I believe I have a good attorney, should he fail, my wife will be trapped there for the rest of her life and I will be homeless. I have written about it on a previous post so I won't repeat myself. But if they succeed, and this is a well-worn strategy with nursing and rehab facilities so they may, I will lose everything. And being 73, homeless and unable to free my wife for the rest of her life is already death, but a living death. If I'm going to die I prefer to die into the next world. So my SN will get to do what I bought it for five years ago. In the meantime I want to watch the planes take off; watch my fellow passengers go out of this life, if only to know how not alone I am. It may make it perhaps a tiny bit easier.
Every eleven minutes someone here in the U.S. has the courage to take the leap into the unknown* so how hard can it be? Well, terribly hard, but at least I realize how many fellow passengers are changing addresses with me. At any rate that alarm every eleven minutes is a fair antidote to believing I am an oddity. If there is a special arrival gate for suicides in the next life it must be very busy.
* Those counted are the successful suicides. If you want to include the failed attempts set your alarm for about every twenty seconds.