The Origin and Meaning of "Suicide"

The word, suicide, is one of the most taboo words in the English language.

It is rarely discussed, and often referred to obliquely: “There was an accident,” or outright denied: “She didn’t jump, she fell.”

Suicide, as a word, feel heavy. Those that have practice lifting it, professionals and anyone with lived experience, are the ones who can most readily talk about suicide.

The actual word is a noun, and is described well in the Online Etymology Dictionary:

Suicide (n.)

"Deliberate killing of oneself," 1650s, from Modern Latin suicidium "suicide," from Latin sui "of oneself" (genitive of se "self"), from PIE *s(u)w-o- "one's own," from root *s(w)e- (see idiom) + -cidium "a killing," from caedere "to slay" (from PIE root *kae-id- "to strike").

The meaning "person who kills himself deliberately" is from 1728. In Anglo-Latin, the term for "one who commits suicide" was felo-de-se, literally "one guilty concerning himself."

Even in 1749, in the full blaze of the philosophic movement, we find a suicide named Portier dragged through the streets of Paris with his face to the ground, hung from a gallows by his feet, and then thrown into the sewers; and the laws were not abrogated till the Revolution, which, having founded so many other forms of freedom, accorded the liberty of death. [W.E.H. Lecky, "History of European Morals," 1869]

In England, suicides were legally criminal if of age and sane, but not if judged to have been mentally deranged. The criminal ones were mutilated by stake and given degrading burial in highways until 1823.

Less than 275 years ago, the body of someone who died by suicide was defiled, mutilated, and discarded. Which is incredible considering the terrific amount of respect we human beings give to our dead. Respect given except when a human being willingly dies by their own hand. I will explore why I think that is in future posts.

It is only until very recently that organizations (both national and grass-roots) have begun celebrating the lives of those that died in the hopes that those struggling with suicidal thoughts don’t feel more isolated than they already feel they are. I’m proud to work with these organizations.

• NAMI

• AFSP

• Joshua York Foundation

• Step Inside My Head

On Contemplating Suicide

Robert Lowell

If there were some little switch in the arm which one could press in order to die immediately and without pain, then everyone would sooner or later commit suicide.

- Robert Lowell

As human beings, we can contemplate our mortality. We learn about death. We see it as children after a pet is put down, or a family member passes and we’re stuffed into suits or dresses and forced to be quiet for reasons we’re not completely sure about. But we know those reasons are serious.

Eventually we learn that everything alive will die. Quickly followed by the realization that we are alive and, as such, are not exempt from this rule.

Since we can imagine our own death we can also imagine taking our own lives, and I wager that every person who lives long enough to imagine dying also thinks, maybe just once, about killing themselves. Sure it may not be as detailed as, “I will slit my wrists and bleed out,” but along the lines of, “The world would be better off without me,” or, “I hope the plane I’m on will crash.”

We’re all human. We’ve read enough, heard enough, and seen enough about the inevitability of death. And each of us has likely had a passing thought about not being among the living anymore. It’s normal. It means you are alive enough to devote a few brain cells to contemplate how you will leave this world. Despite Mr. Lowell’s quote, human beings have an innate fear of death and a strong inclination to delay its arrival. 

We are alive because our ancestors fought to survive in environments more dangerous than anything we could possibly imagine. Survival is in our genes, and bypassing that instinct is terribly difficult.

But now, I am on the difficult tightrope of NOT romanticizing suicide. Because it is difficult to do, managing to do it could be considered an accomplishment to a distorted mind. It certainly was for me. Romantic ideas are why people consider jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. As Dr. Thomas Joiner writes in Why People Die By Suicide:

Why does it matter that one’s location of death be beautiful? One possibility is the merging of needs for nurturance and death that occurs in the suicidal mind.

For me, it was the desire for order.  Since I felt that I lacked control over any aspect of my life, there was a romantic idea that I could make the end of my life entirely the way I wanted. Ideas turned into fantasies, fantasies into obsessions, and obsessions into plans. 

Thoughts, by themselves are harmless. I can think about jumping off something really high without consequence, but if I start figuring out the details, that is when the danger starts. It’s the same as any goal a person thinks about. I can think about becoming say, an electrician, but if I don’t do anything to make those thoughts manifest in reality then I’m just thinking and there is very little chance that I’m going to stumble into the profession without any work.

The big difference between thinking about suicide and thinking about starting a career as an electrician is that most people will hide the former and pronounce the later. 

If I say to my friends: “I’m thinking about starting a new career as an electrician,” and they say “Whoa, okay cool. What’re you doing to make that happen?” If I don’t have an answer I’m probably not that serious about it.

Same with if I say to my friends: “I don’t want to be here anymore,”  and they say “What do you mean? Do you have a plan to hurt yourself?”

I might say: “I wouldn’t go that far; I’m just really sad and tired all the time.” 

Or I might say: “Kinda, I mean I’ve been looking up hotels downtown with luxury balcony suites, but I’m not doing anything.”

The former is a feeling, an idea, a concept.

The latter is the first concrete proof of a plan. Both need to be addressed, but the tact will be different.

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Learn more about the warning signs of suicide and resources available to family and friends with concerns at:

https://afsp.org/about-suicide/risk-factors-and-warning-signs/

Donate to my Team “This Too Shall Pass” for the AFSP Out of the Darkness Walk in Baltimore on 11/3 at

https://afsp.donordrive.com/participant/Gordon-Corsetti

When It's All Too Much

https://www.amazon.com/Classics-Paperback-Alighieri-Archibald-MacAllister/dp/B00CSXWB36

If you explored my site you’ll find many references to Dante’s Inferno. The English translation, which I am quite partial to, places the Wood of the Suicides on the seventh shelf, or circle, of Hell. The other url of my site is www.7shelf.com for this reason.

On this shelf are the condemned that committed violence against others, violence against themselves, and violence against God and Nature. I read Dante’s Inferno every year, and I am always struck by how fair he described hell. Those that sin receive their sin reflected upon them in equal measure to their behavior while still bound to their mortal coil.

Even without Dante’s visceral descriptions, the dogma of most major religions is that those who die by their own hand live out eternity in hell. But with Dante, an entire Western culture absorbed a powerfully disgusting story of the horrors that await sinners, the limitations of logic, and the ultimate saving grace of God.

What still keeps me up at night is the thought of why, after The Inferno approached near-canonical status, people still killed themselves. We don’t appreciate that.

Imagine you’re a German peasant in say, the 17th century. The Inferno is accepted lore that reinforces the primary religion of Christianity in your country. The prevailing wisdom of the time is that life is hard and contains much suffering, because at that time, life was hard and contained much suffering. But, if you died as a Christian, you were assured eternity in paradise. The suffering had to mean something for the system to function.

Truly though, your life as a peasant in a feudal system was hard work in awful conditions, on land you didn’t own, with sickness and disease rampant, and, if your lord went to war, you were automatically conscripted to fight and probably die. And that was just for the men!

Women were essentially property; worth their capacity to have children plus a dowry and they stood a good chance of dying in childbirth. Medically-trained practitioners did not start attending to births until the 1730s. Records of dying in childbirth were not recorded until the late 18th century, and they started at 25 deaths for every 1,000 births!

I find it unrealistic to believe that someone with a life that fraught with hardship would not consider suicide at some point, but I find it even more astonishing that people still killed themselves! They knew, to their core, that death by their own hand would result in being flung into hell where they would agonizingly grow into a tree. They would be ripped and broken apart by harpies until Judgment Day. At which point, their former bodies will be hung from their bleeding branches for the rest of time because God decreed that “it is not just that a man be given what he throws away” (Canto XIII, Circle 7, Round 2: 105).

The thing is, while the collective lives of almost everyone in an industrialized country today is immeasurably better compared to that of a feudal serf, we’re still human. Times and circumstances change, but sometimes, some things are just too much, and we want it all to stop.

Some, like myself, considered suicide as a solution. I don’t claim that thinking about suicide is a rational thought. It is merely one of many thoughts a human can have, and we have plenty of irrational ones too. But, for those of you who have never had a thought to want to end your life and can’t imagine why anyone else would, imagine being in so much present agony that the possibility of spending an eternity in hell is worth ending the pain you experience now.

Then you will have a glimpse of why a person can be driven to that awful thought when it’s all too much.

Treat Your Thoughts as Honored Guests

I read this poem in the waiting room of a yoga studio in San Antonio, TX. I was fortunate that the hotel hosting a NASO Officiating Conference was located by a quality studio and a tremendous food truck park.

I was struck by Rumi’s idea of treating every thought as an honored guest. Happy, bad, good, evil, inspiring, depressing - the thought does not matter according to Rumi. What matters is your reaction to the thought.

This is not an easy idea to accept, and it is an even harder one to put into daily practice. I don’t think this way all the time, but I am getting better at recognizing my reaction to the thoughts that arrive at my mind’s door. And I try to be a good host.

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.

meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

— Jalal al-Din Rumi,

translation by Coleman Barks

Jalal al-Din Rumi

Suicide Unpacked

Suicides fall into two categories: successful and failed attempts.

A successful suicide is when a person kills him or herself through their method of choice.

Failed attempts are further divided into how the attempt failed. Either:

• A person is discovered in the attempt and is stopped.

• The person chooses not to go through with the attempt.

• The person tries to kill themselves but instead injures themselves.

That is how we talk about suicide. A person succeeds by dying. Attempted, aborted, or failed suicides are when a person lives. What a horrible way to categorize a still living person.

Suicide attempt survivors are indirectly told: “Congratulations! You lived and you failed!” It must not be this way.

Those that live should not be sidelined or marginalized. They should not be regarded as broken. They should be cared for. Reminded that they are not alone, and that despite their best efforts - they succeeded in failing.

I failed in more things in my life than I can count, and the failures I am most happy about are my “failed suicides.” I did not fail to kill myself. I succeeded in staying alive. 

I want this blog to flip the script on suicide.

I want to praise those that don’t kill themselves; those that succeed in living because someone found them, or because they had the strength to not see it through, or they were fortunate enough that their attempt didn’t work.

Artist: Dawid Planeta

In the aftermath of my attempts, I felt a deep shame and a level of personal loathing so severe, that the only course of action I thought was acceptable was to try suicide again.

I was stuck in a brutal cycle that reinforced the worst messages that I could tell myself. This is the cycle I aim to break with this blog because there are far better messages to say loudly and often to oneself and to others.

I hope you’ll join me.

Please visit this new site created by my friend, Bill York, to celebrate the legacy of his son who died by suicide earlier this year.

http://www.joshuayorkfoundation.org/

Stillness

Feel your emotions. Live true your passions. Keep still your mind.
- Geoffrey Gluckman

Among my stillness was a pounding heart.
- Shannon Thompson

Time passes so fast. Make time to be still.
- Lailah Akita

Listen to the murmur of the water and you'll hear Mother Nature.
Listen to the stillness beneath,
And there you'll find God.
- Donald Hicks

Only your surface is disturbed;
in your deepness there is stillness and total tranquility.
- Bryant McGill

Movement is freedom of the body; stillness, of the mind.
- Marty Rubin

Aspire to be like Mt. Fuji, with such a broad and solid foundation that the strongest earthquake cannot move you, and so tall that the greatest enterprises of common men seem insignificant from your lofty perspective. With your mind as high as Mt. Fuji you can see all things clearly. And you can see all the forces that shape events; not just the things happening near to you.
- Miyamoto Musashi

What Does Depression Feel Like?

I have JK Rowling to thank for opening up the idea that mental illness is a real condition. In Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, Voldemort, the villainous dark wizard, kills Harry Potter. Well, technically.

I won’t go into the details. Read the books, they’re worth it.

One quote stuck with me more than any other in the thousands of words I’ve read by Rowling, and it comes from Albus Dumbledore:

“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

This answer came during a conversation in the afterlife with the recently deceased headmaster of Hogwarts, or Harry hallucinated an entire conversation so his mind could be distracted by the immense pain delivered by a killing curse. Like I said, read the books.

The problem for depressives, like myself, is that our vocabulary tends to fall flat with people who do not have the same lived experiences. It’s analogous to explaining color to a dog.

Decades ago, the analogy would have been trying to explain color to a dog and the dog didn’t believe color existed. So we’re making progress as a society in being able to explain a deeply personal and varied experience to those who don’t have any reference to said experiences.

So what does depression feel like?

That is a tricky question, and no, I’m not going to leave you with that astute observation. But it is a tricky question because unlike an understood physical ailment, mental illness is unique to each person living with it.

The CDC lists “fever, chills, sweats, headaches, and nauseous and vomiting” as some of the symptoms of malaria. For depression, someone can expect to experience “feeling sad, feeling anxious, feeling irritable, feeling restless, and feeling guilty, worthless, or helpless.”

Malaria symptoms are clear-cut and defined; while symptoms of depression are feelings, and with feelings come with the entire gradient of human experience.

A better question to ask may be: What does depression feel like to you?

I experience depression as a searing pain. It is hot, sharp, quick, and relentless. I will feel sad and feel as if someone is sliding a paring knife across my chest.

I will feel restless and have the sensation that lines of fire are being traced across my face. Sometimes, I see flashes of light paired with the fiery cuts. Like the aftereffect of being punched in the face.

I’ve spoken with other depressives who feel frostbitten; and others who feel as if they’re slowing being crushed to death. Why the variation? Because our brains interpret thing differently. Because Harry might have talked to Dumbledore in the afterlife, or his brain was trying to make sense of masses of conflicting signals and sensory inputs.

As the headmaster sagely put it: “why on earth should it mean that it is not real?”

Superpowers

Marcel Proust wrote

Happiness is good for the body, but it is grief that develops the powers of the mind.

When I was younger I fantasized that with a deep enough depression I might develop superpowers. Like Spiderman, or the Flash, or the Human Torch! Though the nerd within me still holds out hope that I will encounter the right genetically-modified spider, the practical inner voice focuses on how I can harness my illness as a power.

Sisyphus

I was asked recently if I thought I’d battle depression forever. I answered yes, unequivocally. While that sounds needlessly fatalistic, it is realistic. Like Sisyphus, I may be condemned to roll the boulder of my illness up the slope for eternity; only to trundle back down and try again when it inevitably falls. Leave it to the Greeks to give us mythology of fascinating punishments!

I am drawn to the story of Tantalus. Condemned by the gods to spend eternity in a pool of water, a fruit tree above him. Every time he lowered his mouth to the water, the water receded. Every time he raised his head for a bite to eat, the branches pulled away from him. Thus, we have the old English word tantalise - to desire a thing forever out of one’s grasp.

Now comes the question - could Sisyphus and Tantalus ever come to grips with their infinite afflictions? Could they ever accept their punishment, turn inward, and apply their daily lessons for, if not a pleasant eternity, at least a more bearable one?

My depression and anxiety keeps me sharp, for the price of occasionally getting cut. I could rage against that fact. Indeed, I have. I have shouted into the abyss of my mind, cursed every name of God I could recall, and hurt myself in the worst ways. That response gave me nothing but added misery.

I learned discipline from my depression.

I learned preparation from my anxiety.

I learned to identify the signs in my body that I was close to a panic attack, and then breathe that fear response away. The body tends to know things before the conscious mind does, be grateful for this because otherwise it would take way too long to pull your hand off a hot stove. I experience tendrils of energy, like worms slithering down my forearms before a panic attack. When I feel them I excuse myself and go through some breathing exercises.

Tantalus

I am Lex Luthor, Doc Ock, and The Joker. And I am also Superman, Spiderman, and Batman.

Unlike Sisyphus and Tantalus, I may be condemned but that does not stop me from learning how to improve my circumstances. That is a superpower, and what I believe Marcel Proust was getting at.

Know Your Enemy

I am obsessed with learning about depression, anxiety, and suicide. I believe that educating myself about the disorders I have helps me battle my dark thoughts. For many years I resisted the thought that I had any mental illness. I thought that mental illness was a “tough it out” illness; thing is, you cannot battle something you do not understand. So I endeavor to know the enemy within myself.

Edwin Shneidman

I discovered several books that helped me wrap my head around how a suicidally depressed person copes with thoughts of killing themselves.

The very first book I dug into was “The Suicidal Mind” by Dr. Edwin Shneidman. Dr. Shneidman was a professor of Thanatology (the study of death) at Emeritus University in Los Angeles, California, and “The Suicidal Mind” was the culmination of years of work studying suicide notes left behind by those that had committed their final act. 

This quote from “The Suicidal Mind” accurately describes what I craved while planning my death:

“Perturbation is felt pain; lethality relates to the idea of death (nothingness, cessation) as the solution. By itself, mental anguish is not lethal. But lethality, when coupled with elevated perturbation, is a principal ingredient in self-inflicted death. Perturbation supplies the motivation for suicide; lethality is the fatal trigger. Lethality - the idea that ‘I can stop this pain; I can kill myself’ - is the unique essence of suicide anybody who has ever switched off an electric light deliberately to plunge a hideous room into darkness, or with equal deliberation, stopped the action of an annoying engine by turning the key to OFF, has, for that moment been granted the swift satisfaction the suicidal person hungers for. After all, the suicidal person intends to stop the ongoing activities of life.”

The great thing about Dr. Shneidman’s writings was that he didn’t just lift the veil, he also described how to help a suicidal person:

“The sad and dangerous fact is that in a state of constriction, the usual life-sustaining responsibilities toward loved ones are not merely disregarded; much worse. They are sometimes not even within the range of what is in the mind. A person who commits suicide turns off all ties to the past, declares a kind of mental bankruptcy, and his or her memories have no lien. These memories can no longer save him; he is beyond their reach. Any attempt at rescue has to deal, from the first, with the suicidal person’s psychological constriction. The challenge and the task are clear: Open up the possibilities, widen the perceptual blinders.”

I had a definition of suicidal action (perturbation and lethality) and how to help myself (widen the blinders on my mind). That however, wasn’t enough. I needed more so I kept reading more books.

• Why People Die By Suicide - Thomas Joiner

• Insiders | Outsiders - Steven Scott

• Taming the Black Dog - Patrick Ellverton

• How I Stayed Alive While My Brain was Trying to Kill Me - Susan Rose Blauner

• Autopsy of a Suicidal Mind - Edwin Shneidman

After reading about various experiences with mental illness and suicide attempts I no longer felt alone. I felt in the company of some truly remarkable people who experienced a traumatic event, but learned to overcome it.

These books lifted me up. It was no longer me versus the world. All of a sudden I had a whole bunch of people in my corner who had battled the black dog and came out of the fight stronger. The more I read, the less mysterious depression and suicide became. I learned that it was possible to successfully deal with my suicidal urges, and if other people had done it then I was certainly capable of doing the same.

Education leads to empowerment. The more you educate yourself about your mental illness the better equipped you become at dealing with whatever it throws at you.

There is a critical thing that I learned from all of my readings. I am not my diagnosis.

This is the most empowering concept that I learned. Not being my diagnosis meant that I could do something about it. It was possible for me to change and overcome the cards that genetics dealt me.

All I had to do was apply myself and fight like hell. 

Canto XIII - The Violent Against Themselves

700 years ago Dante Alighieri published his “Divine Comedy".

• The Inferno - Journey Through Hell

• The Purgatorio - Journey Through Purgatory (limbo)

• The Paradiso - Journey Through Heaven

Dante wrote in Italian, rather than Latin, so his story would be accessible to the “common” readers. In the 1300s in Tuscany, people lived their lives following the guidance of the Church. Heaven and Hell were real places according to scripture, but Dante brought these places to life in memorable detail in a language that the masses could easily understand.

I hope to do the same with this website in regards to Suicide Awareness and Prevention. I write what comes to me in accessible language that, I hope, removes the veneer of silence from mental illness and suicide.

Here is a synopsis of the The 7th Circle/Shelf/Abyss in “The Inferno":

Nessus, [a Centaur], carries the Poets across the river of boiling blood and leaves them in the Second Round of the Seventh Circle, THE WOOD OF THE SUICIDES. Here are punished those who destroyed their own lives and those who destroyed their substance.

The souls of the Suicides are encased in thorny trees whose leaves are eaten by the odious HARPIES [sic], the overseers of the damned. When the Harpies feed upon them, damaging their leaves and limbs, the wound bleeds. Only as long as the blood flows are the souls of the trees able to speak.

Thus, they who destroyed their own bodies are denied a human form; and just as the supreme expression of their lives was self-destruction, so they are permitted to speak only through that which tears and destroys them. Only through their own blood do they find voice. And to add one more dimension to the symbolism, it is the Harpies - defilers of all they touch - who give them their eternally recurring wounds.

John Ciardi, The Inferno

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