Richard Butchins's Blog: Angels stand corrected... - Posts Tagged "suicide"
Suicide is painless...
Taking your own life is not easy. I know I’ve tried, and obviously failed. When you commit suicide you haven’t lost a battle with depression or illness or whatever it maybe. No, you have won – you have taken the final step away from an insoluble problem.
One day, I'll take my own life and that’s ok. It’s mine to take (unless I were to hurt others in the process). I am a disabled man with little if anything to look forward to in life; apart from increasing ill health and poverty in a society that’s shown itself to be virulently anti old-age.
My lover took her own life last year, she, like Robin Williams, hung herself. She left no note but I found out from reading her diaries that she felt that life had come to a full stop for her and that she did what she did out of bravery not cowardice.
I have no information around Mr William’s death other than what’s already in the public domain but I suspect he knew all to well what having Parkinson’s disease entails and perhaps that factored into his choice.
People do not commit suicide in the depths of despair. There is not enough energy down inside that trench. It’s on the way out of the despair when you can see things more objectively that you have the energy to take action.
Once I wrote a lengthy suicide note that, in a twist of irony, caused me to carry on living. It became my novel on the futility of existence - Pavement. It’s no surprise to me that many suicides do not leave letters of intent. That much thought often hinders action. I ended up needing to know what would happen in the story my own suicide note had become. I suspect that many more people consider suicide than is commonly known about but the primitive survival instinct inside each of us is hard to overcome. I once attempted suicide by hurling myself from a bridge fully clothed but it’s harder to drown than you might think – if you can swim and you are conscious then you will.
I am not sure why our society has such a sanction on suicide when we seem happy enough to cause and create societal death on a huge scale. Perhaps the freedom inherent in the decision to take your own life is subconsciously felt as a threat – what if everyone realised his or her life is ultimately pointless? I also question the sanction that the religious have against self inflicted death, surely if there is a paradise then we should all promptly top ourselves and hop on the stairway to heaven, but nope, it’s a surefire way to Hell if we kill ourselves. Personally I don’t believe all this nonsense.
When you die it’s over and that’s a thing to be thankful for, I know I will be.
One day, I'll take my own life and that’s ok. It’s mine to take (unless I were to hurt others in the process). I am a disabled man with little if anything to look forward to in life; apart from increasing ill health and poverty in a society that’s shown itself to be virulently anti old-age.
My lover took her own life last year, she, like Robin Williams, hung herself. She left no note but I found out from reading her diaries that she felt that life had come to a full stop for her and that she did what she did out of bravery not cowardice.
I have no information around Mr William’s death other than what’s already in the public domain but I suspect he knew all to well what having Parkinson’s disease entails and perhaps that factored into his choice.
People do not commit suicide in the depths of despair. There is not enough energy down inside that trench. It’s on the way out of the despair when you can see things more objectively that you have the energy to take action.
Once I wrote a lengthy suicide note that, in a twist of irony, caused me to carry on living. It became my novel on the futility of existence - Pavement. It’s no surprise to me that many suicides do not leave letters of intent. That much thought often hinders action. I ended up needing to know what would happen in the story my own suicide note had become. I suspect that many more people consider suicide than is commonly known about but the primitive survival instinct inside each of us is hard to overcome. I once attempted suicide by hurling myself from a bridge fully clothed but it’s harder to drown than you might think – if you can swim and you are conscious then you will.
I am not sure why our society has such a sanction on suicide when we seem happy enough to cause and create societal death on a huge scale. Perhaps the freedom inherent in the decision to take your own life is subconsciously felt as a threat – what if everyone realised his or her life is ultimately pointless? I also question the sanction that the religious have against self inflicted death, surely if there is a paradise then we should all promptly top ourselves and hop on the stairway to heaven, but nope, it’s a surefire way to Hell if we kill ourselves. Personally I don’t believe all this nonsense.
When you die it’s over and that’s a thing to be thankful for, I know I will be.
grief
When someone you love dies a sudden and unexpected death, the shock is nauseating. Vomiting occurs.
Everything you had invested in that relationship – everything you shared and perhaps, more important – everything you thought you were going to share is gone; snuffed out like candle, leaving only the acrid smoke of grief, nothing more, nothing.
Everything you had invested in that relationship – everything you shared and perhaps, more important – everything you thought you were going to share is gone; snuffed out like candle, leaving only the acrid smoke of grief, nothing more, nothing.
It's been a long lonely lonely time...
Hello
Almost a year has passed since I last posted a blog. In that time I lost a friend to death, failed to finish a novel, started another, made two films and was given an incorrect diagnoses by a psychiatrist - I'm still struggling with that one - trying to get any help with mental ill health in this country is like trying to get a smile out of Theresa May.
On the good news side I have an Arts Council grant to put on a one act play I have written. The venue is the Battersea Arts Centre in London. It's called 213 things about me". No, it's not about me. It's a monologue for one woman based on the tragic life of a dear lover who had Autism and committed suicide - but it does contain jokes for she was one of the funniest people I ever knew.
I am also going to Japan to make an experimental documentary with 3 disabled Japanese artists - I will be blogging about that over at "The Voice of the Unicorn" and also here.
As for writing, well I've managed this blog post ...so baby steps at the moment
Almost a year has passed since I last posted a blog. In that time I lost a friend to death, failed to finish a novel, started another, made two films and was given an incorrect diagnoses by a psychiatrist - I'm still struggling with that one - trying to get any help with mental ill health in this country is like trying to get a smile out of Theresa May.
On the good news side I have an Arts Council grant to put on a one act play I have written. The venue is the Battersea Arts Centre in London. It's called 213 things about me". No, it's not about me. It's a monologue for one woman based on the tragic life of a dear lover who had Autism and committed suicide - but it does contain jokes for she was one of the funniest people I ever knew.
I am also going to Japan to make an experimental documentary with 3 disabled Japanese artists - I will be blogging about that over at "The Voice of the Unicorn" and also here.
As for writing, well I've managed this blog post ...so baby steps at the moment
Angels stand corrected...
I have to have a blog...the site told me, my publisher told me, my publicist told me, and even my turkish barber told me, as he was administering the finest of close shaves. So I thought I had better
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