But they don't have a right to do it. It's just that it's impossible to prevent them.
Wow. Yes. We (UUs especially) want so desperately to rely on reason and independence in this issue, but we can forget all about the subjectivity of it.
[sorry, random self-disclosure ahead...] I've been really struck lately with how context laden my feelings about my own life are. A few months ago I was driving when I had to avoid a car suddenly and a totally unfamiliar thought flew through my mind: "Careful!" it said. And it was like the word was wrapped in a bubble of something I don't remember ever experiencing before. I felt valuable. I felt like I had to be careful with my life because my life has value now that Lyn is pregnant and there are babies on the way. I don't mean to be melodramatic or weird by saying this, but this is a sentiment that I literally do not remember ever having before. Ever.
And yet there have been hundreds of moments in my life when I felt like my life wasn't worth anything; that my absence was worth more than my life. If someone—anyone—outside of myself had been right there saying "yeah, you're right about that," there's zero chance I would be alive right now.
The thing is those moments almost always FEEL rational. It feels like math: I am worth X, not dealing with my shit is worth Y, it's a simple equation. When I have stopped myself it's because some part of me understood that—if not for me, at least for others—X might be a little bigger than Y. I think having Final Exit there would be like taking a math test and writing X is less than Y, being in the middle of checking my work and having the teacher take it out of my hands and give it back to me with an A on it.
(But ask me again when I'm in the midst of a depressive episode, and I'll say something pretty different. Our minds are more elastic than we believe.)
By the way: I don't know if I've said to you in person how glad I am that you're doing this. It's led me to challenge my own assumptions and think about this issue in a far deeper way than I ever have. Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-24 06:33 pm (UTC)Wow. Yes. We (UUs especially) want so desperately to rely on reason and independence in this issue, but we can forget all about the subjectivity of it.
[sorry, random self-disclosure ahead...]
I've been really struck lately with how context laden my feelings about my own life are. A few months ago I was driving when I had to avoid a car suddenly and a totally unfamiliar thought flew through my mind: "Careful!" it said. And it was like the word was wrapped in a bubble of something I don't remember ever experiencing before. I felt valuable. I felt like I had to be careful with my life because my life has value now that Lyn is pregnant and there are babies on the way. I don't mean to be melodramatic or weird by saying this, but this is a sentiment that I literally do not remember ever having before. Ever.
And yet there have been hundreds of moments in my life when I felt like my life wasn't worth anything; that my absence was worth more than my life. If someone—anyone—outside of myself had been right there saying "yeah, you're right about that," there's zero chance I would be alive right now.
The thing is those moments almost always FEEL rational. It feels like math: I am worth X, not dealing with my shit is worth Y, it's a simple equation. When I have stopped myself it's because some part of me understood that—if not for me, at least for others—X might be a little bigger than Y. I think having Final Exit there would be like taking a math test and writing X is less than Y, being in the middle of checking my work and having the teacher take it out of my hands and give it back to me with an A on it.
(But ask me again when I'm in the midst of a depressive episode, and I'll say something pretty different. Our minds are more elastic than we believe.)
By the way: I don't know if I've said to you in person how glad I am that you're doing this. It's led me to challenge my own assumptions and think about this issue in a far deeper way than I ever have. Thank you.