Suicide as an expression of distrust

There’s nothing more powerful or wired harder than survival instinct. The only thing stronger than that is whatever causes a distrust in people and life which, if unmitigated, leads to suicide. Withdrawal, isolation, disconnection, depression are signs of suppressed life bc life is perceived more painful than non-existence. Using force to change that state only adds fuels to the fire bc it reinforces what causes distrust.

The only thing that has been more powerful than suicidal ideations for me was finding a trust in Allaah. A true trust. Not being goaded into things bc of guilt-tripping or threats or fear. But trust that came from Him showing Himself in my life and opening up awareness and knowledge that I could trust and return to no matter what happened. A bond stronger than anything I could do to threaten it.

That’s the only thing that has kept me alive in the past 8 years. No convincing, no positivity, no just shifting focus to other stuff to forget my thoughts ever helped. For whatever reason, my mind is an open field. There are no compartmentalizations. I lucid dream. Even in dream state, I remain aware. So I’ve never been able to trick myself into a different state.

Feel in between the lines

People who feel suicidal or end up committing suicide are people who don’t feel that to live is safe. They feel an inordinate amount because of what those with robust egos have discarded or pushed away from their awareness to retain control and their worldview. And because others aren’t engaged in the bigger reality that unites us all, they can’t connect with them – these canaries in the coalmine-in the trenches to at least keep them company as they g(r)o(w) through encountering new facets of reality.

There’s no mental acknowledgement of the process of spiritual alchemy that transforms the individual through uniting the opposites that clash. There’s no interstitial space afforded those initiates called to go deeper into the spiritual abyss on behalf of humanity.

It’s like seeing the faint outline of raised waves on the horizon, and going towards it to explore what this anomaly is signaling to then warn the others of the inevitability.

Because what’s causing people to feel so suffocated that they opt to go against every natural desire to live is a symptom that affects us all collectively, whether we tune it out or not. And it’ll steadily eat away at the fabric that holds us together and keeps us sane until it reaches monstrous proportions that we no longer can avoid. We realize what the waves were when the tsunami has already crossed the shore.

Shared vulnerability

“Again, in the midst of our endemic ‘doing’ and ‘fixing’ culture, we may feel powerless to help. And this is when we need to know how to be with someone who is feeling suicidal rather than doing anything with them or to them. It is the very concept of doing and fixing that creates a bigger gulf between those who are trying to help and the very private and untenable hell of the suicidal person.

Within the ‘doing and fixing it’ mindset resides the fear of our own powerlessness to alleviate the obvious hell the sufferer is enduring. In admitting our impotence we are being very human, because the more we pathologize and psychotherapize, the further we move away from our basic humanity. Empathy and sharing space with the suicidally depressed will have a much deeper impact than words. Often in the admission of ones own powerlessness is to walk beside a soul as a fellow traveler and a friend.

The best thing is to do nothing, but be with someone who is suicidal in much the same way as one is in learning how to be with someone who is depressed. There is an erroneous belief that getting someone to speak about their suicidal feelings will drive them over the edge. This is a myth. Dr Daniel Plotkin, a Los Angeles geriatric psychiatrist, says ‘When suicide is brought up, it’s a relief to the person contemplating suicide. It doesn’t push them over the edge’.

[…]

The only thing that stands in the way of it is our own fears which, in turn, are driven by deep societal injunctions and an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

The more we are able to get ourselves out of the way and be open to the other person not as someone with inconsolable, suicidal feelings, but as a fellow soul on the path of life, the more accessible we become to the energies of the Self which are endeavoring to emerge in our midst. It is absolutely essential that we hold the situation within the ‘healing field’, because suicide is often a desperate attempt to return to the Source, even though this may be wholly unconscious; deep down, the suffering soul has a longing for spiritual connection. Holding that connection for them may be the most valuable gift we can give.

Remember that the success is not necessarily in being able to talk someone out of suicidal distress, but in being with them in their place of distress. In this sense, it is more important to have shared that intimacy of communication than preventing them from committing suicide.

What to do:

•Empathize.

•Questions open up consciousness, helping us to access levels of understanding that might not have been available before. Never be afraid to ask key focal questions such as, ‘What is it like for you?’ or ‘Is there anything you need that I might be able to give or help you with?’

•Stay with the process and the discomfort you may experience around this. Remember those feelings of powerlessness you are experiencing may be what the suicidal person is experiencing themselves.

•Never underestimate the power of presence, of staying with the feelings that can be unbearable.

What not to do:

•To avoid facing the unbearable, steer conversation onto safer common ground, which will send client into not being heard, deeper shame and self-disgust.

•Fixing/mending/finding solutions.

•Make comments like ‘You have everything to live for.’

•Make the person feel guilty in an effort to manipulate the situation.

– Stephanie Sorrell, Depression As a Spiritual Journey

My grave became roots

My heart and a willingness to seek and serve the truth is all I have. The rest of me is a shell, a ruin, fossils of intentions and wishes. And I’m tired, so incredibly tired. Whatever fight left in me that I have is funded by Allaah. The mortal me has died long ago. In installments of 6 suicide attempts. Allaah brought me back each time, for reasons unbeknownst to me because as far as I could see I was a waste. I was holding up immense weights and taking blows to protect and retain an innocent heart. I was prepared to die and pay the consequences of that in akhirah, relying on His forgiveness because He knew how dire my silent suffering was. I wasn’t going to live a half-baked life where I compromise my heart. I preferred going extinct if the world wasn’t a conducive environment.

When I think about how my parents may be disappointed in me or how others view me, I think to myself that I would have been 6 feet under by now. Had I had my way I would have been a memory, for years now. Someone who had a lot of potential but tragically, her life ended too soon. I would have had janaza done on me. Someone or some people would have washed and shrouded my body. I would have a marked grave somewhere.

My parents know only of 2 attempts. And those were the very first, when I was 15 and 16. I went secret and silent after that. Preferred to bury my shame.

Wallaahi, only Allaah knows the pain that sits disjointed in the darkness. I keep pushing forward, not for me, but to create a world where those who weren’t as fortunate to survive or got entangled in dissociation or drugs to numb the unimaginable pain, could thrive. A world that doesn’t asphyxiate the heart and doesn’t aim to corrode the truth. Only someone who has endured their suffering and not attempted to bypass it or skip past it will know how it has nothing to do with you. It’s because we think we have to do something to fix it that we destroy ourselves even more when in all honesty, you need mercy, and love and hope. And you need to have that in your heart to seek it from Allaah. I truly believe that if there was one thing Allaah had mercy upon me for, it’s because no matter how messed up and in despair I was, I had so much love and mercy for others. I just couldn’t have it for myself. And perhaps the ducaa of someone I helped became a means. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m not supposed to be here, but I am and that’s not because of me. I believe that my suffering is archetypal and representative of countless others around the world, throughout time. And I’ve decided I won’t pass the buck. I won’t compartmentalize. I won’t make sense of a messed up world. I won’t accept that this is normal. And I’ll either fight to transmute that or die trying. In the end, there’s no joy to be sought when countless are suffering in abject darkness and silence and isolation. I made it out, and it’s my duty to be a wholesome human being. No gimmick, no goals, no glory, no nothing. Just being.

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