Sunday, November 12, 2006

i kill me

Today we had a really good talk/lecture on Emergency Psychiatry with Dr Teddy. The thing is about Psychiatry and Medical Ethics and all them jazz about moods and mental health, is that it’s just so FREAKING COMPLICATED. I cannot decipher for sure what is it that’s really right and what is it that’s wrong. It’s so abstract-lah this thing called personality.
I’ve always thought I handled things very well. But really, emotions scare me.

So anyways Emergency Psychiatry was on the subject of suicide. This is a subject I hold pretty close to my heart.

One of the reason: I’ve considered it
2nd reason: Someone dear to me attempted it.

I don’t believe I have the need to go into the mechanics of why people ever come to a decision to kill themselves. If you ever feel the need to know why, just imagine yourself feeling like a pitiful useless son of a gun with no reason to live every single f*cking day of your life for a bloody sh*t ass month. That ought to muster you enough courage to drive off a cliff. Also there’s a whole loada websites on those “Say No To Suicide” campaigns. So go surf on those.

What I do wanna talk about is the time I came face to face with suicide: when this person (who shall remain nameless) dear to me decided his/her (hehe I’m pretty crafty eh?) life wasn’t worth living anymore. Let’s name the person Strawberry. So I lost touch with Strawberry over the years when I was in the UK. I was so involved with Brighton and Liverpool I didn’t check back to see if the berry was OK. By the time I did, Strawberry had drifted further beyond the buoy than I imagined. I knew it was having a rough time at home but I always thought those were things it could handle. We always think people can handle things. The berry couldn’t. Things were rough at home, studies were falling to pits, social life was abysmal and Strawberry literally had noone in particular it could be friends with. In a sense, there really was nothing to live for. As I listened to the berry recount the times it sliced its wrist I could feel my heart skip a beat. The freakin’ berry could have died. It didn’t but it could have. There were scars on the berry's wrists (I’ve learnt they’re called ‘hesitation marks’) that I could not bring myself to touch. I told the cake, for the life of me, it CANNOT do this to me. I don’t care if the fruit wishes to die or whatever but Strawberry CANNOT be THAT irresponsible to leave me to pick up the mess that it leaves should Strawberry really kongs for good. Between balancing my own grief, there’s the mother that I have to prevent from turning nuts. There’s the father that I have to prevent from dying of a heart attack. And most of all, the berry CANNOT allow the mother to find her own child dead in the bed covered in blood. That old woman would be scarred for life. And who has to piece things back slowly: ME!! And I don’t have the strength to do all that.

I’m not Wonder Woman.

I'm not that strong.

Ah TKL once told me if he ever kills himself (which he did consider from time to time) it will only be when he’s finished repaying all his “debts” and there was no more responsibility resting on his shoulder. I know the feeling. I owe too many people too many things too.

Dr Teddy went through many scenarios like someone attempting to jump a building to a suicide-bomber on our AirAsia plane home to our own choice of form of suicide (my choice would be to slice my vein). I suppose there is no real or correct answers but they were definitely some (bleak) thoughts to take into deep consideration.

P.S: should continue this topic sometime later. It's just getting to broody for me right now.

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