Candid Peel

This morning at around 5 a.m., I was woken up by loud screams. The sounds sent chills down my spine. My first thought was that someone somewhere really close by was getting murdered or raped.

Soon my lane was buzzing with neighbours in their nightwear flocking to the house where the screams originated. Other neighbours talked to each other to piece together what was going on. The police arrived shortly to rule out any foul play. I refrained from visiting that house since I did not know them personally, but I knew that in a few moments, I'll have all the details.

As the events unfolded, I learned that one of my neighbours had committed suicide. The screams I heard were that of a shocked mother who came to wake her 27-year old daughter for work, only to find a lifeless body hanging from a ceiling fan. The trigger for the suicide of this young woman who was to be married next month had been a tragic love story.

People, possibly out of disbelief, are still speculating on the tragedy and passing various forms of judgement on the person whose life ended this morning.

Earlier this month, another 25-year old girl from my university had jumped in front of a train. Her head had been detached in the process. She had been a recent graduate working as a demonstrator at the university. According to circulating news, it was another tragic love story.

I have a low opinion of people who succeed with suicide. To a great extent, I believe that they are selfish cowards who fail to comprehend the magnitude of grief that they thoughtlessly leave behind for their immediate family members. However, suicide is a complex issue. The reasons people commit suicide are many fold. Depression, impulse, psychosis and feelings of extreme helplessness are some of them.

Despite my low opinion of people who commit suicide, there was one particular era in my own life, many years ago, when even I seriously considered it. Consideration for my family members and the grief they would feel in my absence were dulled by the overwhelming feelings of despair built up over an extended time. Death felt like the only solace and the only control I had to put an end to the suffering. I had decided that I would overdose on paracetamol (now I know what an ill-thought plan it was for a suicide attempt!).

As I sat crying on the floor of a darkened room, I was half scared of what was going to happen after I swallowed a few pills, and I was half hoping someone would come bursting through the door to save me. Thankfully, a minuscule part of me was still sensible. A faint inner voice told me to take a paper and write. Yes, it was a strange request but one that probably saved my life that night. I thought I'd list out every memorable/ significant/ insignificant achievement I managed on my own up to that point in life.

In the first piece of paper, I scribbled every random thing that came to mind. How I started earning around age 15 by giving tuition, how I once swam to the middle of the river to save a beetle that was drowning, how I managed to get entry to a good university, how I had seen several children improve their grades with a little extra attention from me, how I had great childhood memories with my two friends, etc. The list kept extending till I filled in about 4 inky pages. By the time I read what I wrote a few times, I knew I had to put away the pills and pull myself together, somehow. Incidentally, that's what prompted me to re-attempt blogging.

Thinking back, maybe I didn't really want to die that day, I just wanted to be some place that I wasn't alive. Not everyone gets help on time and not everyone has the will to reverse a strong impulse like suicide when it does occur in the mind.

According to WHO, suicide is a global phenomenon. About 800,000 people die due to suicide every year and there are many more who attempt suicide. Millions of people are affected or experience suicide bereavement every year. Suicide occurs throughout the lifespan and is the second leading cause of death among 15-29 year olds globally. For each adult who died of suicide (like my neighbour) there may have been more than 20 others (like me) attempting suicide. Those are some sad statistics.

Risk factors

If you suspect anyone trying to attempt suicide:

1) Ask
If you think someone might be suicidal, ask them directly "Are you thinking about suicide?" Don’t be afraid to do this, it shows you care and will actually decrease their risk because it shows someone is willing to talk about it. Make sure you ask directly and unambiguously.

2) Listen and stay with them

If they say 'yes', they are suicidal, listen to them and allow them to express how they are feeling. Don’t leave them alone. Stay with them or get someone else reliable to stay with them.

3) Get help

Get them appropriate help. Call a crisis line if life is in danger. If you can get in straight away visit a GP or psychologist. Even if the danger is not immediate they may need longer term support for the issues that led to them feeling this way.

~ ~ ~

As I wrapped up this blog post, I once again heard the screams of the grief-stricken mother who just received the casket containing the embalmed body of her daughter.

Pushing limits

Watching this video that a friend shared on Facebook today gave me inspiration for this mini-post.

Basically, the video says that being busy can be good for the following reasons:

• Being productive is a vital part of our human existence
• Being busy also means you are constantly improving yourself
• When you’re busy, you are also learning more things about yourself and pushing your boundaries
• When you’re busy, you surely have no time for negativity

Blogging or journaling, with its many famed benefits, is usually in my list of to-do's, along with things such as practice the violin, read a book, go visit new places, meditate, etc. However, what usually happens is that I always seem to have a lot of other things to do and these leisurely pursuits get pushed to the back of my head and stay there like a constant headache.

Once again in my life, it feels like finding that blissful place of relaxation is like attempting to find an oasis in a desert. My personality still baffles me because sometimes I feel like a walking paradox. I dislike taking responsibilities of any sort that makes my life complicated, however, I inevitably end up with a full plate of responsibilities and occupations that I can't seem to shake off. 

In my previous job in Singapore, I worked insane hours (60 - 70 hours a week) for too long (3 years 9 months) and towards the last leg of that race, I thought I was having clinical depression. To be on the safe side - mostly because I am a hypochondriac and I was sure my medical insurance would cover my self-diagnosed depression - I walked into a psychologist's office, for the third time within 12 years. Mental health is still taboo but becoming less so. While people won't flinch to hear that someone visited a doctor for a sniffle, many would roll eyes and/ or feel ashamed to admit to visiting a psychologist for a mental ailment. It turned out what I had was not clinical depression, but something called an "adjustment disorder" and for the benefit of my well being, I was asked to change that lifestyle as soon as possible.

(Funny story, my medical insurance did not cover my visit because it wasn't clinical depression and I was slapped with a jaw-dropping bill, which made me want to go back in time and take a Bachelor's degree in Psychology instead of Life Sciences, failing which, invest in an advanced hypnotherapy class to convince myself I am superhuman.)

Fast forward to my life now, I am doing a Master's degree on my weekends and at other times, I manage three jobs (working for two NGO's and one Bed & Breakfast) while I shuttle weekly between my home town in Kandy and the capital city which is about 125 km away. These days, I'm lagging behind in a lot of work, not in the best of health, not the best friend I can be to some of my closest friends, not doing as well as I should in university, etc. Basically, it's a struggle and yet I oscillate between that and a state of adrenaline rush, happy to be engaged and wanting to see how far I can challenge myself (as this article details).

History tells me that I should tread with caution.