The topic of dying with dignity or choosing an “end date” in life has inspired a couple of viral articles this week. This can be troublesome for survivors of suicide. Technically, no one chooses how and when they enter this world, but once they are here, it’s unsettling that anyone would want to pinpoint the timing in which they leave.
I first came across an article about a sports reporter who made a calculated, year-long decision to end his life on his 60th birthday. He went through the trouble of building a website to share with his family, which outlined the rationale for his decision, the details on how he would take his life and what he wanted them to do after the fact. Among his many points, he explained that he wanted to go out on top, before age or crippling health issues disrupted the quality of his life. He shared that no one is dependent on him – everyone is off living their own lives providing for themselves. He has experienced all of the wonderful things this earth can offer and he felt he had enough. He didn’t talk at all about depression, but one might wonder if his general approach might signal other signs of mental illness. We can’t know.
Another headline surfaced from The Atlantic where a man explained, “Why I Hope to Die at 75.” The author writes, “I am sure of my position. Doubtless, death is a loss. It deprives us of experiences and milestones, of time spent with our spouse and children. In short, it deprives us of all the things we value. But here is a simple truth that many of us seem to resist: living too long is also a loss. It renders many of us, if not disabled, then faltering and declining, a state that may not be worse than death but is nonetheless deprived.”
I’m guessing the sports reporter felt similarly and actually took matters into his own hands. The author of this other piece simply hopes his life will end by 75, but does not intend to die by suicide if that doesn’t happen. He just won’t pursue any life support measures.
Most recently, a 29-year-old newlywed announced that she plans to end her life next month so that she can avoid suffering the horrific effects of a rare disease. She plans to be surrounded by family and friends and is doing everything she can now to enjoy the time she has left with them. She resides in one of few states where assisted suicide or “dying with dignity” laws are in place. People questioned why she would want to commit suicide when she could hold onto the hope that medical intervention or a miracle will restore her health. She explained that she doesn’t have a sucidal thought in her mind and this has nothing to do with taking her life due to depression or mental illness. She simply wants to leave in a better condition than is currently being forecasted for her by doctors.
Each of these situations is undoubtedly unique. And, not all point to anyone being depressed or having a shred of mental illness. Unfortunately, I can’t really argue with the idea that we would all prefer to “go” before debilitating sickness or disease cause our final days in this world to be lived in pain. Prior to my dad’s death, I had only witnessed that side of dying. I observed grandparents slowly losing limbs to diabetes complications and pneumonia before their lives came to a close, or else long battles with cancer. To me, that’s what dying was. It wasn’t pretty or meant to be easy. Then, I was introduced to a whole new side of death, the unexpected, traumatic kind: suicide. It made me “miss” the form of death I was used to. The relatives who hung on gave me plenty of time to accept they were going and things reached a point where we prayed for their suffering to end. Selfishly, this “worked” best for me. On the other hand, my dad’s untimely death left me reeling, shell-shocked, full of questions and without that much-needed closure. But, technically, he was suffering inside and slowly dying, too. While he didn’t have to wait to be taken off a ventilator, he basically held on as long as he could before “pulling the plug” on his own. He just didn’t give us any warning. It sounds like the sports reporter took this surprise approach, but the latter two are giving their family a heads up on their preference and involving them in the process. Their losses will still be difficult, but at least they will have the closure so many of us lack.
I get frustrated when I read articles like the those above because I feel bad for their families. No one wants their loved one to be able to just “punch out” like that and miss out on more life experiences. But, at the same time, is it selfish to want them to hang on, when things may not be so great anymore, just so we can have more of them? This is obviously a very difficult topic and one that I don’t fall clearly on one side or the other with because I’ve never been faced with the decision myself or with a family member. I’m just sharing that I don’t like when this pops up in my newsfeed at all because it does start to beg the question in my mind. Frankly, I’d rather not be prompted to go down that path. I hear both sides and everyone is entitled to their opinion. This is just another one of those grey areas of life. I’m not sure I would be so intrigued by the discussion if I hadn’t lost my dad to a death that he chose.
I too lost someone to suicide. But there’s a difference between mental illness and physical illness. I think we do a terrible disservice to people such as Brittany Maynard saying they *must* be depressed. That there is only that kind of death by one’s own hand. If I was in her shoes I think I’d choose the same as she has.
I’ve done a good bit of research about end of life issues and people choosing when to die. Even with severe mental illness, as you noted, people choose to simply stop. I can truly understand that. If there wasn’t such a stigma attached and that we feel we *must* keep making these people continue in a life they don’t want any longer and saying oh, we can help, you’ll get better; is it too much to think they might have informed people of their impending deaths if there had been better options available to them? Along the same lines I think that suicides as you and I have experienced them, it’s the shock, not having any real warning it was coming that did so much damage. If people were allowed to express their wishes to die more clearly and without threat of treatment they don’t want or need would that make a difference?
In my husbands case it was events that had happened, choices he’d made that caused the suicide, for him. In his case he needed help to get past that point in time to see that there could be life after his screw up. *Then* when the dust had settled if he still felt the same it would be a different situation entirely. I think, in part, that the stigma of suicide causes the perpetuation of the secrecy. Keeping feelings to oneself out of fear. In other words, “I don’t want to tell anyone how badly I want to check out because of the stigma and ideas surrounding wanting to die”. Only in mental health issues does a person not have a right to refuse treatment. And of course it all depends on what kind of mental health issue we’re talking about.
I think we’re on the edge of a new way of looking at life, living and what constitutes value of life to each person. I know you have mixed feelings about this. I do too, because of the trauma of my husbands suicide. But when I can be objective I see the forward strides as a good thing.
Hi Barbara – I agree with so much of what you shared. I wonder if things would feel differently if my dad had expressed how he was feeling to give us time to process it. I’m sure that like Brittany is experiencing, people would try to stop those who express that they are ready to be done in this life. There’s always the hope that there could be some remedy to make their life better or worth living. But, regardless, maybe some people are just ready to go. And, who besides themselves has the right to force them to press on. I thought it was interesting that this became the topic du jour in the media this week. I’m sure more and more stories like these will arise.
I think what it comes down to is trying to hold on to that person for ourselves. Not thinking of them first. If that makes sense. Not wanting to lose them, lose the time with them. This tends to change the way I think of my husbands suicide, that he *chose* to leave me. It wasn’t that simple, and it wasn’t about me at that point. What an epiphany to have 22 years down the line, huh?
I’m glad we’re finally having this conversation. It’s long past time.
Yes and no… I don’t think any of our loved ones chose to leave US, per se, more so the despair they were facing. At least, I’d like to think/hope my dad struggled with making that choice knowing he was leaving us behind. I will fully admit that I still selfishly wish he was here and I wish all of the people mentioned in this post were still there for their families, but we have to think about being more selfless I guess (and letting the person suffering be selfish). It’s a new and challenging point of view for me.
I’m sure you’ve heard the saying about how we can control no one but ourselves. I guess that’s what it comes down to at the end of the day.
And yes, I wish he was still here. He’s missed so much. But then I think about how things would be had he lived. At least lived past that one point in time. Would he still be alive today? I think there was a lot more going on, mentally, with him then anyone knew. He had a mental illness that went undiagnosed. And, he was under psych care at the time. Just not enough time to figure out what was going on.
There are no simple answers to cover all the various scenarios. For any of us. Like I said, I’m 22 years post and still learning things about the suicide and my feelings.