Suicide: A Selfish Way Out

Back in October of 2008 I witnessed something I never thought I would witness in my life, but that is the reality of living in Philadelphia, the things you see. In my three years living in the city of brotherly love, I have witnessed a murder, an attempted murder and a suicide. The suicide took place on a Tuesday afternoon around fourish while I was in the Gallery at Market East Mall. I was walking out of my favorite store, Finish Line, when without warning the body of a man smacked the clay colored tile floor approximately five feet in front of me. The sound of the impact is something that still rings in my ears to this day.

Motionless, I stared at the cold eyes of the man whose body, arms and legs, were twisted in positions I didn't think were possible for a human. I think that is when I had, what people call, their moment of clarity. My moment of clarity took me back to the August of 2005 where I stared down the barrel of a rusted 9mm gun, by choice. Taking the direction that I have seen in movies and read in books, I wrote a suicide note and placed it on the kitchen table for my roommate and his then-fiancé to find before they discovered my lifeless body. But, obviously that never happened.

The reason behind me wanting to commit suicide is not relevant, at the moment, but the act and thought of suicide is. While I stood in the threshold of Finish Line feeling the life escape from the unknown man, I scanned the immediate area taking mental pictures of the scene. There were four children, under the age of 12 in attendance with their mothers. There was also an elderly couple and countless employees from Children's Place and a Hair salon. Above us on the third floor were a mall security guard and more witnesses. After my moment of clarity I grew very angry. Angry at the fact that his man, of whom I did not know, chose to end his life for whatever reason in a mall full of people and in front of children. Then I thought how selfish was that?

The man was selfish, in my opinion, because he put horrific images in the minds of innocent bystanders and children that otherwise would not have been put there in the first place, maybe. The man was selfish because he chose not to end his life privately or away from the general public. But then I thought further and I asked myself, was it selfish for the man to leap to his death in public or is it selfish for him to do it in private where someone would discover his body anyway? I think incorporated my own experience into the equation. Would it have been selfish for my roommate to walk into my room and discover my brain matter painted on my white walls, death in my eyes and a gun by my side? I still do not have a definitive answer.

I am a firm believer that since humans give life we have the right to take our own if we see fit. Some would argue that suicide is a permanent fix for a temporary problem but by whose definition? Everyone has their personal opinion of pain, a different tolerance for it and a diverse ways for dealing with the problem(s) they are facing at that point of time. We live our own lives to our own accord and I feel that it is our choice to end it if we want to where ever we want to. If you have never contemplated suicide it may be difficult for you to grasp this idea or concept. But I have contemplated suicide and became seconds from pulling the trigger of a rusted 9mm, so I know a little something about it.

When your heart is in excruciating pain that will not let up, when your back feels like the weight of the world has doubled in size and the only way out is to leave this earth, who are we to tell someone it is wrong or selfish? In those painful and critical moments a person is not thinking about the extent of their decisions. We don't think about the impact of our actions or the people we leave behind. In a strange way suicide is a lot like love. You can't tell someone when they are in love, how in love they are or that the person they love is wrong for them. Suicide is the same way. From the outside looking in a person cannot even begin to image the turmoil a person considering suicide is experiencing, so how can you judge him or her? How can you label him or her selfish?

On the flip side, suicide can have devastating emotional effects on the people who witness the act or the ones that stumble upon the aftermath. Even if one were to leave a suicide note the act of suicide still leaves an abyss of unanswered questions. But I pose the same question I ask about love. If it feels right, how can it be wrong?