Depression and Suicide
This is going to be quite a strange topic and I might be making a mistake in revealing myself so openly, but I always find that honesty is the best policy and I don’t often fear the opinions of others with regard to myself. So here goes …
I will admit that I have had bouts of depression at 2 or 3 points in my life, so intense that I have even thought of taking my own life because of it. Don’t worry, this is definitely not a common occurrence in my life, I mostly found myself in this position when dealing with great stress. An example would be during my teen years when many changes were happening in my body and I was so immature that things that I would today think were insignificant often seemed like the end of the world. My most recent bout of depression occurred when I was in the military (say, around 2005 or so). I not only had great moral conflicts with what I was doing– I still regret being a part of that world of moral depravity– but I was also only getting maybe 2-3 hours of sleep per night for many months at a time (my rational judgement was obviously very disrupted). So clearly I am not one that is prone to depressive suicidal thoughts in any regular sense and I don’t foresee putting myself in such situations in the future (learning from past mistakes is a great tool).
However, I must admit that suicide has crossed my mind for another reason: curiosity.
What is the purpose of this whole thing that we call life? Is there an afterlife? Do we have a soul and is it eternal? Where did existence come from? Stuff like that.
I know that the entirety of human thought can never and will never produce a definitive answer to these questions, because we as a species are simply not enabled with that capacity. We can only view the world in our living existence and our senses are very dull. Sure, we do sense a great deal of our physical world, and our continued search for answers to our questions often reveal new truths of our worldly existence, none of which get us much closer to the truth of spiritual existence in any appreciable sense (we’ve moved only a tiny trillionth of a trillionth of a trillionth of a sliver during our entire history with regard to the questions of existence) . So, the only way to get that answer in any immediate way, it seems to me, is to commit to taking the journey, to end one’s life in pursuit of it. That is the only way of really knowing. Cross the plane.
I am one that always seeks absoluteness to the questions that vex my mind. However, there is one reason that I will never ever commit suicide in pursuit of the absolute answer to these questions: I am going to die anyhow, just as we all are. Certainly I am not that anxious, life is already too short.Explore posts in the same categories: Random Musings, Religion