Suicidal thinking is frequently misunderstood, at least in my own case. The reason people suicide, so the story goes, is a tale of hopelessness and despair so deep that the individual sees no way through their problems and self-destructs in a manner of their own choosing. Whilst this might be true for some, it is not true for me and spending over a decade grappling with my own suicidal thoughts and actions, I have had plenty of time to reflect upon what is occurring within.
Have I tried suicide? Yes – on several different occasions. The fact that I am still here is entirely due to the Grace of God (however you perceive that energy – I really don’t care) and I have a few opinions about that particular version of ‘Grace’ when I am in my ‘suicidal ideation’ that are deeply uncomplimentary towards that God. Those around me, on such occasions, can confirm the clarity of my intent because I am neither hopeless nor despairing, but deeply, blisteringly furious. Only this kind of rage has the capacity to overpower my very strong will to live.
Suicidal thinking has been present in my life from childhood as both my parents openly considered this option on many occasions. Where it initially elicited deep anxiety, by the time I had reached my teens I was experiencing compassion-fatigue and found myself wishing that they’d just get on with it rather than putting the family through the emotional blender with their endless threats. I might have gone down the same route had I not, at the same age, come across a spiritual wisdom that suggested if I were to successfully suicide, I’d only be incarnated again to face the same problems, only worse. It was enough to put me off the idea completely – if I was going to have to deal with this stuff, it would be done properly and this time around. For over thirty years, this wisdom worked very effectively.
I returned to suicidal thinking and action just over ten years ago when, as a result of a personal relationship with a man I now understand was a psychopath, I found myself in a reality that contained no Love that I could see. To be surrounded by ‘not-Love’ is to be enveloped by hate and it was a life I considered not worth living. I’d heard all the spiritual claptrap about what happened to suicides but had come to my own conclusion on the matter. If my God was Love, I reasoned, I would have an opportunity to explain myself and if I took responsibility for my act then my God and I ought to be able to work something out that would be satisfactory to both. So I took an overdose that ought to have killed an elephant… and lived.
It was a remarkable experience to survive because it gave me something I had not had before – a sense that I was supposed to be alive. I had offered my life up to my God – and my God had given it back to me. I understood this to mean that my life was meant and that I belonged on this planet. This was a deep and profound change and produced some surprising consequences. I learned that although my God considered my life meaningful enough for continued existence, there were a lot of other so-called humans who thought differently. It was the actions I took in accepting that my life was meant and in challenging those who thought otherwise that ultimately resulted in my criminal offence.
I spent the bulk of my sentence on suicide watch because I didn’t stop challenging those who thought they could play dice with other peoples’ lives. When people do this, they are behaving criminally and challenging their behaviour usually makes this apparent to everyone involved. If nothing else, the perpetrators learned to leave me alone or get rid of me because I was catching their behaviour and producing evidentiary proof. Within those systems, it was not a good idea to have a corpse on your hands, especially if the dead had left a paper-trail behind them. Since my sentence ended in 2010, I’ve been working with local mental health services to shift me out of this suicidal field because the pattern had, over time, entrenched itself in my psyche making it virtually impossible to move without encountering systemic notions that ‘in-formed’ me I had no worth. I’ve been doing OK with the help I’ve received, but the gut response is still there and rears up in the face of injustice.
The rage leads to suicidal thinking/behaviour was triggered again by this story published yesterday. As an example of the social disparities in my country, it really cannot be improved upon. The gap between rich and poor is so stark and the fatuous complacency of the rich so obvious that someone either has to be totally disconnected from reality or an active part of the problem not to be able to see it. Britain is not the only country where this is occurring – it is happening on a global level – and I am now angry enough to be calling a spade a fucking shovel. What is occurring is a crime against humanity inflicted by those who have no humanity and anyone who suggests that this is ‘normal’ and change unnecessary can be regarded as an accessory. I ought to know exactly what a crime is because I am a criminal.
The reason I chose suicidal pathways in prison was to face down the murderous and call them on their actions. Those who are indifferent to the suffering of others; who lack empathy; who refuse to take personal responsibility or learn from their attitudes and actions; who plunder the creativity of others for personal power or gain, are murderous in their intentions. Since murder is an acknowledged crime, such people have an investment in disguising themselves. It is only when their ‘prey’ turns and challenges what is occurring that the disguises fall away and they can be seen for what they are. When we talk about the difference between sheeple and those who are awake, this is the knowledge we are talking about. The ability to see the murderous for what they are and name the ‘game’ they are playing. It is a ‘game’ where we get to die on every level so they can live in the style they claim for themselves at our expense. The prison staff who had to deal with me in this frame of mind would be told that I was disinterested in quantity of life – if I couldn’t have quality of life I wasn’t playing anymore. I am not playing now.
The massive increase in suicide across the planet is misnamed – what we are witnessing is murder-by-proxy in addition to all the killing our murderers are actively engaged in. When we understand this, we rip the mask from the face of the murderous so we can see them exactly for what they are – controlling, hateful, soulless criminals. They are not just our leaders. They can be family, colleagues, neighbours and so-called friends. Challenge their control and they become more controlling. Confront their hateful behaviour and their hate becomes self-evident. Call them murderers-by-proxy and their total lack of conscience becomes immediately apparent. We are the collateral damage by the wayside on the road to their ambitions. Fail to do any of this and you become a collaborator in genocide because these are the people running our world and they intend to murder us all. This is not delusion. Those who have explored the fantasies of neo-Nazis find that the endgame of their actions is an empty world. Such people are anti-life at all levels; they simply intend to live slightly longer than the rest of us. They’ll get their way – if we let them.
As someone who chooses to be a part of the evolutionary life-affirming processes occurring within humanity at present, I believe this realisation is a necessary and vital step in our growth towards the new. It cannot be avoided. Not everyone is cut out to challenge this murderous status-quo – it requires a level of warrior skill that often needs a lifetime to acquire. There is a place on our planet for healers and ecologists, creators and craftsfolk – we are going to need all of us once we get beyond this obstacle in our path. What I can no longer tolerate is the level of disrespect some show towards those of us who have been challenging the NWO status-quo. Without us, you are not going to live to realise any of your pretty dreams. Without the warriors, you are likely to watch those you love burn on the sacrificial pyre of those who want us dead, closely followed by yourself. If you doubt my words, talk to the already impoverished and demonised because they tell the same story I do. They will tell you that the murderous enjoy this and have no desire to stop because this is what they do, this is what they have always done and this is what they will continue to do because it has become their nature.
At the moment and in my fury, I don’t much care whether people agree with me or not. I have a decade of direct experience which is more than enough to satisfy my own need for verification. What I am certain of is that if there is any dying to be done I’ll volunteer, not because I particularly want to die but because I’m damned if I’ll collude with these murderous bastards and bitches. Death is preferable to any kind of life they have in mind for me and I consider that my life will have been well lived if, by my willingness to die, I help to undermine or collapse the foul system they are imposing upon us all. This isn’t about me – one life out of seven billion is nothing. This is about something else entirely.
If you don’t want to face this for yourself, don’t. Face it for the sake of the future. Face it for the sake of the children. If you don’t, and if matters continue down their present trajectory, we may have neither.
This is not the whole story but, in my opinion, it is one of the fundamental realisations that needs to be individually acknowledged if we are to derail what is occurring to our people and our planet. There can be no authentic change until we are dealing with reality as it is, and not some cloud-cuckoo fantasy that will only collapse inside the latest upgrade of gas ovens. How many more murders and murders-by-proxy do you need to wake you up?
We are at the tipping point. If you don’t choose, the choice will be made for you and it won’t be me doing the choosing. I am committed to free choice. The choice will be made by those who enjoy ruling so much they’ll control you to death through all the means at their disposal. If that isn’t an irresponsible form of suicide, I don’t know what is.