charlie_z
Student
- Apr 30, 2018
- 184
I don't believe most people who attempt suicide want to die. I believe that what they want is to stop experiencing a life they feel unable to change, a life that no longer holds any room for purpose and beauty. I don't want to die. I know, because I've experienced beauty: there is the unbridled laughter of children stomping among shallow pools of water after a sudden rainstorm; the wandering among giant redwoods caressed by soft curtains of lily-white mist during an early evening hike with close friends; the deep gentle breathing of a somnolent lover cradled against my body after an evening of lovemaking.
So many things: stunning renderings by painters such a Monet and Hopper; stirring music by composers such as Bach, Paul Simon, and Gert Taberner. And there's photography, architecture, cinema, and much, much more. I've lived and experienced this beauty, and I know I've been very fortunate to have been able to do so. So, there is a sadness in knowing I'll never be able to re-experience many of these moments of beauty, but if I could believe that there was a life ahead of me that allowed for a quiet but dignified existence, a simple life but one with a sense of genuine purpose and meaning, the idea of my ending my life would not be a question at all.
This last year, my time in XXXXXX and now back in XXXXXX, I've lived with the mounting fear that this dream of finding a way toward a meaningful, purpose-led life is now grown beyond me. For more than 35 years I've searched for a way to make meaning of my life. From the outside, there have been lovers, teachers, healers, psychiatric drugs, therapists, surgery. From within, meditation, reading, writing, seclusion. I have failed in all these efforts. For years I've spent my life avoiding, escaping, and hiding. But this not a life. There's a line from the movie "The Hours" where Virginia Woolf, in admonishing her husband, states, "You cannot find peace by avoiding life, Leonard." I cannot continue avoiding my life, but neither am I able to change it. I am deeply cognizant of the fact that, as much as I fervently wish you or anyone else could set out a path for me to follow, I alone bear this responsibility.
So many things: stunning renderings by painters such a Monet and Hopper; stirring music by composers such as Bach, Paul Simon, and Gert Taberner. And there's photography, architecture, cinema, and much, much more. I've lived and experienced this beauty, and I know I've been very fortunate to have been able to do so. So, there is a sadness in knowing I'll never be able to re-experience many of these moments of beauty, but if I could believe that there was a life ahead of me that allowed for a quiet but dignified existence, a simple life but one with a sense of genuine purpose and meaning, the idea of my ending my life would not be a question at all.
This last year, my time in XXXXXX and now back in XXXXXX, I've lived with the mounting fear that this dream of finding a way toward a meaningful, purpose-led life is now grown beyond me. For more than 35 years I've searched for a way to make meaning of my life. From the outside, there have been lovers, teachers, healers, psychiatric drugs, therapists, surgery. From within, meditation, reading, writing, seclusion. I have failed in all these efforts. For years I've spent my life avoiding, escaping, and hiding. But this not a life. There's a line from the movie "The Hours" where Virginia Woolf, in admonishing her husband, states, "You cannot find peace by avoiding life, Leonard." I cannot continue avoiding my life, but neither am I able to change it. I am deeply cognizant of the fact that, as much as I fervently wish you or anyone else could set out a path for me to follow, I alone bear this responsibility.