Noble: Staying alive—addressing suicidal thoughts

It is not surprising to hear Bob Marley’s Redemption Song around the time of our Emancipation Day celebrations. The lyrics rouse us to free ourselves from ‘mental slavery’, as advocated by Marcus Garvey.

Some of us may not know that Marley knew his time on earth was limited while writing and performing this song. In 1977, Bob had been diagnosed with a malignant melanoma under a toenail. He decided not to have the toe amputated, against his doctors’ advice.

Bob carried on touring, writing, and recording, but within two years, he was ailing, appearing gaunt. Death was on his mind—he was in severe pain and had been writing material that dealt with his mortality.

“We’ve got to fulfil the book,” was a stirring call to action. Marley was defiant even up to his death in May 1981.

What gave Marley the power to overcome his pain and sure knowledge of pending death? What allowed him to keep moving?

How was he different to Anthony Bourdain and his resorting to suicide? How does one emancipate oneself from mental slavery?

Is mental slavery to be restricted to the original thought of Garvey—or can it be relevant to other spheres of our lives?

Bourdain beat heroin addiction and was a contrarian, like Bob. (The autopsy declared that there was no trace of drugs in his body at the time of death.)

His mother, Gladys Bourdain, who was a longtime editor at The New York Times, said she had no indication that Mr Bourdain might have been thinking of suicide.

“He is absolutely the last person in the world I would have ever dreamed would do something like this,” Ms Bourdain said. “He had everything. Success beyond his wildest dreams. Money beyond his wildest dreams.”

Yet in Roadrunner, a movie about his life, David Choe, a close friend, says Bourdain wrote to him towards the end of his life and admitted he was depressed.

“My life is sort of s*** now. You’re successful, and I’m successful, and I’m wondering, are you happy?”

What is happiness, and where do we find it?

The words of Hamlet may have resonated for Bourdain in such circumstances:

“To be or not to be…The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. To die is to sleep, and to sleep is to end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.”

Hamlet was wrestling with the pains of life and was actively considering ending his life. Human existence is filled with suffering. Will dying end that pain?

Grief is the clothes for suicide and is possibly the best description for ‘running out of hope’. People commit suicide because they are convinced they would be better off dead.

They’ve given up on this life, hoping the next one will be better. If not, ending their life will at least end their pain.

Many of us feel that pain and despair. These burdens crowd our minds and daily lives. Financial ruin, shattered relationships, debilitating disappointment, sexual violation, substance abuse, depression, shame, guilt, loneliness, emotional or physical pain: the list goes on.

In Deaths of Despair (2020), Princeton economists Anne Case and Angus Deaton explored the relationships between economic inequality, health status, and increasing rates of death and suicide among middle-aged White Americans. Day-to-day living wears you out.

Case and Denton’s work is reflected in Trinidad’s official statistics. Trinidad and Tobago ranks 3rd in the English-speaking Caribbean region for the highest suicide rates.

In the period 2013 to 2016, the mean age for homicide was 34 years, while for suicide it was 41 years. A greater and significant number of individuals of African descent were involved in homicide, and a greater number of East Indians were dying by suicide.

The ratio is approximately 3:1 for both causes of death. The struggle is real.

When we choose to give up, we smash a glass pane. The shards enter the lives of those who love us and are left behind. They must now find courage or just strength to overcome the multitude of questions which course through their minds.

They have to overcome the torture of ‘what if’ and ‘what else could I have done?’ Oftentimes, there are no ready answers, but the guilt and remorse fill the soul.

We are left like Habukkuk, in the Bible, wondering why these things happen to us.

But let us disabuse our minds that suicide is purely the result of mental illness, diagnosed or not. It is more complex than a single factor.

Studies have shown that approximately 54% of individuals who have died by suicide did not have a diagnosable mental health disorder. And for those with mental illness, the proper treatment can help reduce symptoms.

Suicides do not happen suddenly. Many individuals who are suicidal may only show warning signs to those closest to them. These loved ones may not recognise what is going on, which is how it may seem like the suicide was sudden or without warning.

The phrase “mental illness” makes it seem like it just exists in our thoughts. But it does not. WebMD lists at least 12 signs of serious depression.

Depression is not sadness. It is much more complex: emptiness, flatness, irritation, or a strange numbness. It is evidenced in chronic pain, which develops or worsens. Chest pain, migraines, stomach problems, and a weakened immune system are some common symptoms.

It may be worthwhile to read about the debunking of the myths we have about suicide.

The Bible has six instances of suicide: Abimelech, King Saul, Saul’s armour bearer, Ahithophel, Zimri, and Judas Iscariot. They lost hope. But the Bible also tells of those who overcame the struggle of suicidal ideation.

Elijah came off a significant victory, yet when the queen threatened him, he ran away and hid (1 Kings 19). His prayer? “It is enough; now, O Lord, take my life” (1 Kings 19: 4).

Paul had his desperate times. “For we do not want you to be unaware, brethren, of our affliction which came to us in Asia, that we were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life” (2 Cor 1:8).

Struggles are part of our lives. Being a Christian does not exempt us. What we should recall in our fragile moments is that the Bible says that God will not pile on criticism and condemnation on us. Isaiah 42:3 tells us that He is tender-hearted towards us and will support us in such difficult moments.

Could it be that our way of looking at life is the core problem?

When our worldview puts ourselves at the centre—as we dress up our lives so they seem more appealing on Facebook and in TikTok memes—we are subconsciously creating a burden that no human being was ever meant to bear.

We are like hamsters on the wheel, busy all the time but going nowhere. We are constantly trying to gain significance and personal worth. We strive for a better life as defined by distorted images; we fail, get disappointed, and scurry to get back on the wheel.

A gnawing sense of hopelessness continually crouches at the door. It can destroy us eventually.

The way we perceive the world and the things that come across our paths is influenced by our expectations, comparisons and circumstances. For example, is getting $100 a big deal? That depends on our expectations.

Did we expect to get it? We may be happy with it until we find out that the guy next to us got more. If we are wealthy, the $100 bill is chump change.

This lack of objective value gives rise to discontent and plants seeds of grief in our hearts. Could it be that we need to count our blessings and close our eyes to what others get or have?

It is not a problem if we fail. We have to accept this truth. We have to reorient ourselves to believe that we are not the be-all and end-all of our lives.

When we live for the praises of others and trust in our individual efforts to make our lives meaningful or to avoid loss, we will ultimately be consumed with despair.

Like Elvis Presley (1967) sang: “When I am weary, filled with despair/ Who gives me courage to go on from there?/ And who gives me faith that will never die/ Somebody bigger than you and I.”

We need to discover the source of our courage.

Dionne Warwick, accompanied by Elton John, Gladys Knights and Stevie Wonder, sang Burt Bacharach’s wonderful song That’s what friends are for. Why not have the joy of friendship that says:

“Keep smiling, keep shining/ Knowing you can always count on me, for sure/ That’s what friends are for/ For good times and bad times/ I’ll be on your side forever more/ That’s what friends are for.”

Rip off the masks. Bare your souls to your friends. They love you. Having this type of friendship can save your own life and that of others. That video shows deep respect and friendship between the performers. Why can we not have the same?

Finding additional sources for emotional support is not an all-or-nothing exercise. Friendships can be deepened by taking small steps.

“Share something new about yourself with a friend you already have, or invite a friend you normally see in only one context to do something new.”

Let us watch and listen to each other. Let us act. Do not wait to cry and mourn. Do not be afraid to ask directly whether your friend is contemplating suicide. It may be the jolt that is needed. There is nothing wrong with doing so.

Ideation is not fatal. We can prevent it from materialising.

Let us encourage open discussions about mental health and suicide. Talking about suicide does not encourage attempts. On the contrary, it may reduce the unfortunate outcomes.

Let us emancipate ourselves from mental standards that are distinctly unhelpful.

The world is harsh; help a friend.

If you need someone to chat with, here are some toll-free numbers.

• Lifeline: 800 5588 or 866 5433;
• Childline: 800 4321.