Suicide

[Andúril]

I did a search, but couldn't find a thread that dealt with this topic exclusively.

I was prompted to contribute to a thread at another forum, which was about suicide. What follows is my story. Feel free to discuss further.

Suicide. I came very close once.

Some background: About 4-5 years ago, I was at a house party in which LSD was involved. That is referred to by myself and my psychologist as the Turning Point. Afterwards, my thought processes were structured in a different way. I became a philosophical decontructivist, and began to question everything. My thoughts were constantly racing.

I'm not sure how my bipolar came into this, but I'm sure it factored in somewhere. My theory is that the LSD triggered a hypomanic phase, which in turn produced the motivation to learn.

I quit my B.Com (which I had no interest in) and started a B.A in Philosophy. But I had questions, and the answers were not coming quickly enough. The frustration of the self-imposition of a restrictive curriculum led to depression, which destroyed that initial motivation and I gave up the B.A.

But the existential vacuum was ever present. I don't recall how it happened, but the next hypomanic phase ensued and I started a B.Th, which was more focused on my interests (at least, on initial investigation).

My social life ceased to exist. I put everything into my studies. I bought books from overseas (most of which I haven't even read). I was on the net constantly doing research.

And I achieved. During a telephonic conversation with one of the professors in Pretoria, he assured me that I had attained the highest grades out of all the students enrolled that year, in that module (which was a foundational module), and he expressed his "enthusiasm" about working with me during my doctoral studies. My ego was boostly greatly, as you'd imagine. That had been a goal of mine--not only to acquire knowledge--but to "beat everyone else".

That was the last assignment I sent in, ironically. The subsequent segments of that module were skewed greatly towards students possessing god-belief in some or other form (but predominatly Christian). I suffered because of this. And grew frustrated again. And on came the next depression.

Eventually, a few months later, I went hypomanic. I started the net research again; I read loads of books; I participated in many online debates. All of this was driven by the need to address the existential vacuum that besieged me.

I deconstructed and deconstructed.

Eventually, the crisis culminated in what my psychologist defines, my Core Irrational Belief: Existence Is Fundamentally Meaningless.

Okay, so that's the background.

I wasn't depressed at this. In a strange way that I now cannot recall in any other way than knowing that I made a point of being aware of the feeling, I felt enlightened. I watched people, seemingly oblivious to the "idea" that they are a bunch of quarks and leptons, just like the air around them. I lost all emotion, because I understood emotion as electrical impulses in my brain, and I no longer felt the need or desire to indulge in them, thinking of them as a "weakness". "Enlightened", I felt superior.

But I was still conflicted. I felt like I was privy to some important info that most others were unaware of, but at the same time, according to that info, nothing mattered when conceived on a descontructive, base, fundamental plane.

Hence, my very real suicidal thoughts. It was not so much a need to escape suffering or frustration. I viewed my existence or lack thereof in a very cold, clinical way. I could kill myself at any moment, and be neither relieved nor guilty about it.

In a place like that, thoughts relating to family members and friends do not exist. If I remember correctly, I was of the position that any "guilt" or apprehension I might feel before and regarding my suicide, was completely and utterly pointless. I viewed the sorrow and anguish and anger of these family members and friends as mere electrical impulses. They had just as much emotional weight as my own thoughts. Which was nothing.

So I could very easily have killed myself. I wouldn't have thought anything of it. Who cares about a meaningless existence that continues despite the lack of my own, after all?

But then, one day, I decided that I wanted to hold onto the existence of my mind. I was filled with the idea that if I exist (my mind; my personality; what makes me, me), I could use and abuse the world in any way I wanted. No thought was "immoral" or "despicable". My mind was opened to anything and everything, and I felt powerful.

Enter hypomania.

Anyway, it was very obvious soon after that that I lived in a society, and because of this, if I decided to act on any particularly "frowned upon" thought, my situation would very probably change for the worse. I developed a faux-conscience which conflicted with my newfound physiological hedonism.

And so I integrated back into society.

And as the years moved on, that core irrational belief fell further and further into my subconscious. My faux-conscience turned into conscience, and my figurative box of unconstrained acts turned into a set of morally justifiable acts.

I also grew incredibly intellectually lazy (amongst other things). Now I'm like the majority of you humans.