Suicide & My Religious Views

As I see it, religion is founded on questions.
Why am I here?
What is my purpose?
How did I come to be?
What happens after I die?
Why does the sun rise and set?

People like answers. They want to feel secure. Legends evolve to explain how everything came to be.

People also like being part of a group of friends with alike beliefs. With others to watch your back, you are less likely to be ridiculed.

If you haven't already guessed, I am an atheist. I don't believe in a god or a higher power of another sort. But it wasn't always so.

When I was maybe five or six, I held the steadfast belief, as most small children do, that everything would turn out right in the end. The villain would be punished, and the goodly would emerge victorious. Raised in a (loosely) Jewish household, I was told that God would always keep me safe.

Those who are deeply religious say that they always just knew that there is a god. For me, even when young, it was rather the opposite: having a god and everything that came with him/her/it would be nice, especially since everyone kept telling me that, but I had a gut feeling that it was all lies. I suppressed it, though. I figured it was one of those things I'd understand better when I got older. I guess you could say I was shaky on the whole religion deal to begin with.

I didn't talk about this with anyone. It wasn't pressing or really relevant to my life at the time. I only brought it up once that I can remember.

"Eva," my nine-year-old self asks her best friend, "do you think there is a real god? 'Cuz I'm not sure."

Eva blinked. "Of course there is, silly!" Then she told her mother, and they brought me along to their church the next Sunday. I hated it. I had to sit still and my shoes pinched and I didn't exactly understand how it was possible this man called Jesus could be a son of God. The preacher's feverent praying scared me slightly too. No way am I ever bringing that up again.

Fast forward five years. Eva, they tell me, has gone to heaven. I am more educated about religion in general at this point, and I know that Christians view suicide as a sin. So Eva can't go to heaven, even though she is loved and kind and just an amazing young woman.

And then it all came crashing down. If everyone has a purpose in life, what was Eva's? To die at fourteen, with so much she could still do? No kind, loving god could let this happen to me... to her... No kind and loving god could stand all the hunger, death, and hate he/she/it created... There's all those scientific loopholes anyhow. Did she still believe in God until the end, I wondered.

For the first time, I had to actually think about these things. And, it seemed (and still does) there was only one reasonable conclusion.

Lies. All of it.

(Please, PLEASE, no comments about how your god justifies all these things. Not to be rude, but I feel like I've heard it three too many times. I really needed to put this in words, and it's been really hard. I'll probably expand this post later, after I can think rationally again.)

Not Again...

Telegraph.co.uk: 'Emo' fan 'hanged herself after talking of suicide'

Would it really be so remarkable if it weren't for the Hannah Bond controversy in May?
And nobody reached out to this poor girl who was asking for help?
And why are these the only suicides that make it into the media?
And why the hell do people keep finding this blog by googling emo cult?

Blog post and comments which refered me to the article

Posts about the Hannah Bond/MCR case:
http://thesuicidelist.blogspot.com/2008/05/ridiculous-to-say-least.html
http://thesuicidelist.blogspot.com/2008/05/mcr-thing-is-still-bugging-me.html
http://thesuicidelist.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-post-on-emo-cult-suicide.html

My thoughts can be applied similiarly.

The Other Mariah

I have two faces:

One looking forward;

One looking back;

Neither present now

People, places, friends

Yet to be seen

The other Mariah

Holds me back

A lead weight

Still lingers

From anther time

'What are you afraid of?'

I ask the Other

She says that she

Is not afraid

But rather

That I should stay

'It's all your fault,'

She croons

Softly, seductively, convincingly

And I believe her

She's right, you know

I can only glimpse

A wide open collection

Prospects, ideas, dreams

Of who I could become

Before the other Mariah

Yanks the chain

Around my neck

Tighter into the past

I sink

(before anyone asks, that isn't me in the picture)

The Sound of Silence

The Sound of Silence
-- Simon and Garfunkel

Hello, darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision
That was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
Beneath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed
By the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share...
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence.

"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows."
"Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed in the wells of silence.

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said: "The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls,
And whisper'd in the sound of silence."

Back now. Too exhaused to do a proper post.

A Quote

"Suicide sometimes proceeds from cowardice, but not always; for cowardice sometimes prevents it; since as many live because they are afraid to die, as die because they are afraid to live. "

- Charles Caleb Colton, The Lacon, 1829

So true. And before I forget, there is this also:

Inconsiderate now, are we?

If I were to commit suicide by train, I doubt I'd care who was late for work. And I really dislike the second line.


A Re-cycling Appeal to ‘Jumpers’


By Laura King


Oringinal here.





Suicide is gainless


Unimaginative, clichéd, brainless.


Now you may say it's in bad taste


To question why this bloody waste


Of humanity


Is at worst termed 'cowardly'


Or criticise the wretched whose idea of glory


Is to incur commuter curses for train delay.


But to anyone who wants to die I say


Offer yourself to Cancer Research today!


Turn feeling useless into being useful


Leave a legacy above the miserable


Ensure your life wasn't late-aborted in vain


If the Buddhists are right, you’ll only have to do it all again


And your DNA is a much closer match

Than that of the non-consenting lab rat.


So think of humanity and maybe we'll think of you


Commemorate you with a bit of a ‘do'


Attended by all the lives you’ve saved


Who’ll drink to your life beyond the grave

Hate on the Internet

I've been doing a lot of thinking since I wrote the last post.





I've had time to process the information better, and the initial shock and hurt has worn off.





What now amazes me more than anything is that someone, no, probably many people, took the time to create this hate-charged website. Do they really have nothing else to do? Or did they really think they were giving to the Internet community? If they believed these things, then why did they believe them? Insecurity? Fear? Dogma?


Who are these people? I'd like to say I don't know any, but given the quantity, I must know at least a few. Very few people would actually say those types of things to someone's face, but on the Internet it is so common many don't give it a second thought.


I believe that the Internet liberates people. I know I write things online I would have extreme difficulty saying aloud. Given a certain sense of anonymity, I believe people are more honest with themselves and the world.


That said, does that mean that a lot people, people who you probably see at your job or school or who sit next to you on the bus, have a seething prejudice inside that they just can't wait to take out on innocent bystanders, provided it is highly unlikely that they will be caught? Or am I really one of the few Internet users who isn't an immature 10-year-old doing a very poor job at masquerading as a twentysomething? Or do they feel that the social constructs on the Internet are the same as in "real world," that somehow unsuitable insults are cool and mature and not experience the same freedom I do?


It says in the Encyclopedia Dramatica's about page (turns out there is one; it was pointed out by Shiv in the comments of the first post) that it is not only supposedly meant as humor, that

Encyclopedia Dramatica was created December 9th 2004 while girlvinyl was
impatiently awaiting the delivery of her new ibook. ghettofinger and girlvinyl were
outraged and amused at the ill-treatment of internet
celebrity jameth by the moderators
and nerds at wikipedia. Girlvinyl decided it
was time to present an alternative to the fascist hold they had over information
on the internets.

First, it's no wonder they were banned. Second, Wikipedia strives for accurate information, just because you say it's so doesn't mean it is. Third, I do not see how Wikipedia has a "fascist hold;" anyone can edit, just that a lot of the time people can't seem to differentiate between fact and opinion, except, yes, the mods and nerds, i.e. experts in a subject. The disclaimer page is equally repulsive, stating that, "If you feel as though someone has committed harassment or defamation against you - please pursue your remedies against that poster as encyclopediadramatica.com is not responsible for their words." So, basically, the site is promoting vendettas between users. When I Googled "encyclopedia dramatica," I found stories of abuse by previous members.


I see these things all the time online, just not to such a great scale. On YouTube and less frequently on blogs, but still frequently enough, it is hard to avoid racially, sexually, and just plain prejudiced comments. About a week ago, I watched a featured video on YT made by several homosexual men and women asking people to please stop using hate speech directed towards them- namely "faggot," "dyke," and "that's so gay." The video was polite and contained no hate speech towards the other party. And yet, as I scrolled through the comments, I realized that roughly 98% were some variation of "FUCK OFF FAGGOT!!!!"


Suicidal people say that the world doesn't care whether they live or die. It sure seems to me tonight that some people want them dead, and might possibly laugh when they hear the tragic news.

There is not a word that describes my disgust.

http://www.encyclopediadramatica.com/Suicide

I don't know where to begin on this one. Even if the site is meant as comedy (and I'm not really sure of this; click on any of the articles linking to it and the material is equally offensive), this page makes suicide into one big joke. It almost made me sick... this is by far way worse than the articles on MCR.

It might do some good to mention that nowhere in the article or website does it say that this is for entertainment purposes only and not to be taken seriously.

Let's start with the first paragraph:

Suicide is the absolute and irreversible pwnage of one's self IRL in which said
individual subsequently becomes an hero to those still
dwelling in the real world. It is the
equivalent of flipping over the Monopoly board. Contrary to popular believe this
also stops you from posting online.
*Advice to those who are less mentally stable: If you
intend to kill yourself, DO NOT tell anyone
or they may try to stop you.*

First of all, it seems to say that those who commit suicide are remembered as heroes after death, and glamorizing it. Secondly, it says that suicide is insignificant- or at least that's what I take "flipping over the Monopoly board" to mean, if anyone thinks differently, please say so, as that phrase confuses me quite a bit. Thirdly, OF COURSE if you're dead you're not going to be online. Also, there is a grammatical error. Finally, it tells suicidal people not to seek help.

As the title of this says, there is not a word (or even a lot of words together) that describes my disgust. I do not feel it is necessary for me to rant on about it either. Therefore I will share the most horrifying bits here and you can feel free to read the full article and the accompanying photo captions at the original source, at the link at the top.

This is one of the best forms of suicide, since it teaches impressionable
young children not only that suicide is cool, but that it will benefit the other
children all around them as well. This will cause more bullies to push suicide
as an option, which should create more an heroes... Which of
course, will generate more lulz.

Why leave the cruel, cruel world alone? You may as well take down a few emos and jews while you're at it for extra lulz, and, for that matter, Man points. And babies. Who doesn't love Dead babies? If you kill enough of them and maybe, find the much hunted faggot emo jew- and kill him in a LULZ way, you might not want to leave this world anymore. Why to give up on the fun of killing emos and fags and jews while the sun is shining and the minigun is rolling?
see Virginia Tech massacre for moar information.

Make sure you fuck with a lot of people the day before you do it, maybe kick some random three year old on the street in the face or something. Cause you're gonna die anyway, might as well give yourself and the world some lulz before you throw yourself in a tree grinder. Maybe pwn some people with a machine gun and then smoke a shit load of meth, its up to you.

[edit] Be a movie star!
Way 1.
If you're going to die, why not apply to appear in a snuff movie? These are pornographic movies where the star is tortured and killed for the kicks of others. Sure, your death will be horrendous - but you'll be dead either way, and you might as well give something back to the community. God knows you did nothing worthwhile when you were alive. Additionally, why not arrange for the movie to be shown at your funeral? It'll be a talking point for years to come, particularly in therapy sessions.
Way 2.
Right before you kill yourself, post a video on Youtube saying you're killing yourself and why. Also reveal your name; most likely you'll become famous and Encyclopedia Dramatica will post the video here for the lulz. Also, if you're upset because of an article about you here on ED, please mention that in your video so it will raise our ratings

Different cultures have very different forms of suicide from our western culture.

seppuku, the only thugged out way to commit suicide.
Azns perform Hari Kiri
Muslims strap bombs to themselves
Emos post suicide notes on myspace and die in public bathrooms
Junkies OD on needle-drugs while setting highscores for Dance Dance Revolution

[edit] People who should commit suicide
Seth MacFarlane
Guy Chapman
Guruubii
Sceptre
Perez Hilton
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
Phaedriel (actually, she will)
Fred Bauder
BLARGH
Ann Coulter
Cyde
Zeriara
You

P.S. I looked at the "articles" for woman, depression, and My Chemical Romance (because it linked to the depression page.) I was too afraid to look up Judaism or bipolar disorder... If this isn't a hate movement, then I don't know what is...

*gags*

Bloody Rain

Last night I dreamed that I was standing outside, with rain pouring down over me. I stood in a field of short grass, lights from a big city in the distance. It's night, and foggy.

I don't know how long I stood out there. There was nothing to mark the passage of time save my own heartbeat. Even though there was a small, winding road through the field, not a car drove down it. In dream-time, I was alone for hours. I only know this because my dream-consciousness knew it was so, in that funny way you sometimes just know things while dreaming, even if it seems absurd afterward.

My t-shirt and shorts were soaked. I looked down at my bare feet in the grass, and saw that they were covered in blood. I raised my arms and hands into my sight and realized that they too were bleeding. My dream-self didn't know why this was, but didn't panic about it either; I passively continued to watch the rain. It was sort of like, Hm. I'm oozing blood. That's strange.

At this point, my non-dream-self realized that I couldn't possibly be loosing that much blood and struggled for comprehension. And, since that is always what happens when my real self becomes alert, I woke up

When I said that I was bleeding, I don't mean bleeding like from cuts, SI or otherwise. It also wasn't like when you fall and scratch your knee on cement; the only possible way I can think of to describe it is like when your lips get so dry and chapped they start to bleed. Like that, except there were these cracks over my whole body.

It was rather a pleasent dream, actually. Or at least compared to the nightmares I usually have.

Walls: More Fun With Music

For some reason, I've been listening to Pink Floyd's The Wall album nearly every night lately, sometimes on repeat.

"All and all, it's just another brick in the wall..."

The concept album tells the story of Pink, a man who builds a metaphoric wall separating himself from society after experiences with an absent father, a overprotective and smothering mother, an emotionally abusive teacher, and later, a cheating wife. After a time, wall completed, Pink starts to see himself as a sort of dictator (the character is a rock star) rallying a mob (his audience.) More time passes, and Pink cannot take the self-imposed isolation anymore. He examines the events that had led him to this point, and realizes that society wasn't being mean to him; it was the opposite: he thinks that it was his fault. The wall crumbles, and the most common interpretation is that Pink, unable to cope with these new revelations, shoots himself in the head.

It was not the suicide that got me thinking last night, but rather the idea of the all-important Wall.

Does everybody have a Wall? For introverted people, maybe the Wall is chest-high, while for the most extroverted it only brushes the ankles. Maybe some, like Pink's, are heavy stone and brick, and others are made of wood or Styrofoam. After all, no one is completely public; there are a few, at the least, thoughts or secrets that are kept hidden away.

Do we subconsciously build our Walls as a natural defense, to keep ourselves from being hurt again? Is that why those who have felt that they've been abandoned have difficulty forging new relationships?

I do not like answering many personal questions. I have been called a very private person; I've been told I've become more so over the past twenty months. Am I slowly building my Wall higher?

I remember a time, probably about October 2006, when I couldn't see over the Wall. I didn't speak unless absolutely necessary, and withdrew from nearly all human contact. I was trapped in my own hard little cyst- or should I say Wall?

So I guess it's possible to tear down the Walls; the internal construction crew is always hard at work. I think everyone needs a Wall for protection, but how long could one really go when it gets too tall?

Selfish?

Is suicide selfish?

It's one of the most common (and most unhelpful) things people say when someone confides that they are considering ending their life: "How could you be so selfish?" My views on this are complicated, as I am guessing most peoples' are.

Where to begin... Those who say that suicide is selfish's main argument is that the suicidal person will leave so many people behind to feel so much pain. I can identify with that- I chalk my suicide attempt and everything else related to it mainly to Eva's death.

On the other hand, if the scenario was reversed, if one person wanted to keep living and everyone he knew wanted him to kill himself, it just seems preposterous. Though there are cases where this has occured, for example, suicides believed to have stemmed from being bullied. Is it part of the please-everyone-but-yourself society?

I believe some things are very personal decisions that no one can ever make for you. No one can say how you feel; everyone is different. It's YOUR freaking life! Sure everyone wants to share it with you, but you're the central person here, right? Social confirmity can only be taken so far.

And if you're so desparate you're considering suicide, then you're probably beyond caring what other people think or who will care.

This is where it gets complicated for me. If you read near the end of this post, there is a part that goes like this:

“Mariah, please don’t do it. Please don’t murder yourself.”

Well, when he puts it THAT way…

Martin grabs me by the shoulders (he’s a lot taller than me). “Mariah, I
know you’re doing this because of Eva. But it’s not going to take away from the
amount of pain in the world- it’ll add to it. I’ll feel the same way you’re
feeling now, and then what? I love you. Please don’t go.”

Hmm... sort of the thing we're talking about, isn't it?

But, there's this bit:

I finish signing my name with tears in my eyes. For some reason, I’d thought
committing suicide would be easier than this.

I was crying and I didn't know why. Maybe, just maybe, I already, deep down inside, knew that I didn't want to die?