Now I Can Understand

Before reading this essay, please, please, please read the following line.... perhaps 20 or 30 times: I am not suicidal, I know that suicide is a horrid, horrible, awful thing to do to a family. I promise you that I am NOT suicidal. And, there is NEVER any risk that I would do such an act. It is IMPOSSIBLE for me to ever do such a thing.

As I awoke from a very fitful sleep, one built around feelings of never being able to "win"... meaning I cannot ever have everyone in my family content and reassured about any damn thing, I could tell this was going to be one helluva damn piss-poor day. If you wish an inkling as to why I feel this way, please read Monday's essay for a glimmer into my state of mind. Driving to work today was relatively uneventful except for that it was garbage collection day on one of the major roadways I take to the university. As I looked into the distance, I could see one of the very large garbage trucks (the kind with the "pinchers" on the front to lift up those huge commercial refuse containers). My first thought was to prepare to move to the left lane so as to avoid an accident. However, as is also common, I imagined what it would be like to stay in that lane and ram into the back of the garbage truck at 45 miles per hour. Now here is the crux of the matter.... under most circumstances, when I have that brief thought about what happens *if I do not avoid* the danger, I see the horror and carnage that would befall me. The horror of the accident, the damage to me, the vehicle, etc. But TODAY, I actually felt a momentary sense of calm and relief when I visualized the possible accident scene that could happen between my vehicle and the garbage truck.

It is that shocking feeling of relief that surprised the hell out of me. I think I can now far better understand how a person who is suicidal must feel. From a psychological science perspective, I know that suicidal patients often say that to kill themselves would put an end to their suffering... and therefore is very comforting to them. From this clinical perspective, I could understand their reasoning. However, to actually feel that sense of "relief" in simply envisioning my own demise was a completely unnerving experience. I now have a better grasp of what the suicidal patient may feel emotionally as they plan for their demise. It is rather frightening how strong that sense of relief can be for something as utterly horrid as suicide.

As I continued on my drive to work, I not only envisioned crashing into the back of the multi-ton garbage truck, but also the process of driving off the edge of an overpass I travel upon and having my vehicle and myself crash to the roadway 50 feet below at roughly 50-60 miles per hour. Oddly, in both situations, I could feel a sense of calm and a feeling of peacefulness just in the thought of either of those two scenarios. It is shocking.

Again, please do not worry. I am utterly against suicide from both a moral and a philosophical standpoint. There is absolutely no risk of my doing such a deed. I simply find it interesting and thought-provoking to see how given the right emotional triggers, the act of killing oneself can seem comforting. With my neuroscience background, I have understood that in theory, but now I understand it at a deeper level.

I still do not know how to ever regain my own sense of "self" when all it seems I am to the various women of my life is an indentured servant, a slave. Or worse, I am thought of as a pillar upon which can be hoisted every boulder of their own emotional turmoil and upheaval. I am but one man, and I am crumbling under the weight of their burdens that I am made to carry on my shoulders. I am akin to a camel with a weight load so heavy that the proverbial addition of a simple piece of straw would literally "break my back".

PipeTobacco