After a life of doing great and terrible things, Saul took his own life. He’d been severely injured and didn’t want the enemy to find him, and “make sport” of him.
In my own life, I have one similar experience with people taking their own life. My father in law took advantage of Oregon’s death with dignity laws, and after months of struggling through liver cancer that had spread, and a stroke, he took his life with a doctor-prescribed concoction. This took place in my home, with four generations nearby, and was a lovely send off. I cannot speak to whether this was empirically right, or whether it was tampering with God’s plan. I can say that it was right for him, and if that was tampering with God’s plan, so too was the quadruple bypass he’d had ten years prior. All I know is that at the time, I was called to be hospitable, present, and loving.
Our loved one is struggling again. They have spent more time not-hospitalized than they ever have, since this insidious disease. What this means is that despite the struggles, they’re learning to manage a little better, or at least well enough to stay out of the reaches of the police and crisis workers. But boy, do they still struggle.
Yesterday, they walked around the neighborhood filming their journey and their turbulent thoughts. The thoughts included things like “I know everyone in the world”, “My parents are aliens”, “They rape me all the time”, “They steal my food and tampons”, “Those people are following me”, “I need to get out of that house”. This stream of sentiments were accompanied by anger, giggling, anxiety, shaking and tears. I would only know about this because they posted it for the world to see on YouTube. It was heartbreaking.
Every time the police or crisis workers are engaged, the ask whether our loved one has expressed suicidal thoughts or actions. Every time, we have to say no. Our loved one cries, doesn’t understand, wants out, is angry, scared. The two most horrible things are that the torment is coming from inside their brain, and there is no cure.
Have they expressed a desire to harm themselves? The most honest answer should be, “not yet”. The suicide rate among people with schizophrenia is higher than for the normal population. I’ve read that people with this disease have a significantly shorter average life expectancy than those without, and of those who die prematurely, upwards of 40% die by suicide. Another statistic said that 10% of all those with schizophrenia will commit suicide. Honestly, watching my loved one, I’m surprised it’s that low.
I cannot imagine the relentless chatter and torment. The failed attempts at medicinal cures, hospitalizations, ridicule, isolation.
The reflection accompanying the reading asks why Saul didn’t cry out to God? Was he more afraid of his enemies making sport of his dying self, the pain, or God? I don’t know what to think of that question. In Saul’s case, he was mortally injured. He didn’t want to be tortured by the enemies, probably either because of the pain or the humiliation. My father-in-law was a man of deep faith. He didn’t give up, ever. He didn’t stop praying, ever. But eventually, the vessel that was his body had given up. He was ready to rid himself of that vessel, not because he’d given up on God, but because he had a deep faith in God.
My loved one does not have the capacity to pray now, at least not with her head. All I can pray is that the Spirit that resides in them prays when they don’t have the words. And honestly, it appears to be cold comfort to them right now.
This morning, I’m thinking about what it means to take your own life, and if anyone else could have the insight to weigh in. When is the vessel too broken?
In my own life, I have one similar experience with people taking their own life. My father in law took advantage of Oregon’s death with dignity laws, and after months of struggling through liver cancer that had spread, and a stroke, he took his life with a doctor-prescribed concoction. This took place in my home, with four generations nearby, and was a lovely send off. I cannot speak to whether this was empirically right, or whether it was tampering with God’s plan. I can say that it was right for him, and if that was tampering with God’s plan, so too was the quadruple bypass he’d had ten years prior. All I know is that at the time, I was called to be hospitable, present, and loving.
Our loved one is struggling again. They have spent more time not-hospitalized than they ever have, since this insidious disease. What this means is that despite the struggles, they’re learning to manage a little better, or at least well enough to stay out of the reaches of the police and crisis workers. But boy, do they still struggle.
Yesterday, they walked around the neighborhood filming their journey and their turbulent thoughts. The thoughts included things like “I know everyone in the world”, “My parents are aliens”, “They rape me all the time”, “They steal my food and tampons”, “Those people are following me”, “I need to get out of that house”. This stream of sentiments were accompanied by anger, giggling, anxiety, shaking and tears. I would only know about this because they posted it for the world to see on YouTube. It was heartbreaking.
Every time the police or crisis workers are engaged, the ask whether our loved one has expressed suicidal thoughts or actions. Every time, we have to say no. Our loved one cries, doesn’t understand, wants out, is angry, scared. The two most horrible things are that the torment is coming from inside their brain, and there is no cure.
Have they expressed a desire to harm themselves? The most honest answer should be, “not yet”. The suicide rate among people with schizophrenia is higher than for the normal population. I’ve read that people with this disease have a significantly shorter average life expectancy than those without, and of those who die prematurely, upwards of 40% die by suicide. Another statistic said that 10% of all those with schizophrenia will commit suicide. Honestly, watching my loved one, I’m surprised it’s that low.
I cannot imagine the relentless chatter and torment. The failed attempts at medicinal cures, hospitalizations, ridicule, isolation.
The reflection accompanying the reading asks why Saul didn’t cry out to God? Was he more afraid of his enemies making sport of his dying self, the pain, or God? I don’t know what to think of that question. In Saul’s case, he was mortally injured. He didn’t want to be tortured by the enemies, probably either because of the pain or the humiliation. My father-in-law was a man of deep faith. He didn’t give up, ever. He didn’t stop praying, ever. But eventually, the vessel that was his body had given up. He was ready to rid himself of that vessel, not because he’d given up on God, but because he had a deep faith in God.
My loved one does not have the capacity to pray now, at least not with her head. All I can pray is that the Spirit that resides in them prays when they don’t have the words. And honestly, it appears to be cold comfort to them right now.
This morning, I’m thinking about what it means to take your own life, and if anyone else could have the insight to weigh in. When is the vessel too broken?
I'm grateful for Oregon's law that allows people determined to end their suffering to do it with openness and dignity. I had a parishioner who found an elderly relative after he had shot himself in the head, which was a trauma the finder didn't deserve. I have a journal called "The Anti-Anxiety Notebook," that has an appendix of "Cognitive Distortions." One is "fortune telling," which is our tendency to make predictions about the future based on present circumstances. I think suicide is often premised on this - things are bad now and I can't see any trajectory other than down. But our ability to predict the future is poor. So I think in most circumstances we serve those we love best by preventing them from killing themselves.
ReplyDeleteSo true. And yes, in most circumstances I agree. But it’s so tough.
DeleteI suppose the vessel it too broken when they can't find any other way. Someone I love has come close several times, but has always found a way out, for which I am grateful beyond words. What I know for sure is that no one can stand as a true judge of another person's actions.
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree. It’s tough to imagine when I get to the place where my loved one has actually attempted suicide. That’s a frightening future.
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