I’m dangerously depressed.
It’s a pretty day outside, November miracle weather. I should be dancing around town in my power-chair, but I cant. Last time I was out and about something happened with the joystick on my chair, making it immobile. I have a manual transport chair that I am using, but…
Close your eyes. Now damn it! Oh, I forgot you needed them to read. Okay, don’t close your eyes but try to imagine flying around your town. Not in an airplane, you are half human, half machine. You enjoy using your arms as wings, and dancing while you fly. Always dancing. You dance everywhere you go because it feels so good to fly that you can’t help but dance.
Suddenly something snaps in your wing arms and you can’t fly or dance around town, or even get the basic errands you were planning on doing done. You are nothing more than a hurting, broken, flightless cyborg.
That’s me. Dependent on my mechanical body parts, which can break down at any moment. They said it could be as early as tomorrow, but probably next week when the technicians will be able to take a look at it. So I’m sad.
Thinking 12 years might be too long. That’s the plan, sky-diving to my death 12 years from now. I’ll really fly that day, so I guess I do have something to look forward to.
Ok, ill suck it up and put on a happy face and be a good little cyborg now. Thanks for the vent space.
This poem is for two people I care a lot about, from both sides of this issue. When you love someone, you set them free.
What is it that you find so hard to understand?
I explained it well, what I have planned.
I know that you love me and I love you too;
This is something that I’m just getting ready to do.
I’ve laughed, I’ve loved, I’ve shed some tears.
I’ve satisfied my doubts. I’ve conquered my fears.
You still have lots of living to do.
Don’t blame yourself that my time will be through.
It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It’s no tragic loss.
The road will be over and I can put down my cross.
I desperately want rest, and lasting relief.
Why does that have to mean heartache and grief?
I’m not angry, I’m not even sad.
I value each second of life that I’ve had.
I know there is so much that I could still live for.
Each day holds promise, a new opened door;
I could continue this life; continue to try
To find some reason why I should not die.
I’m so tired of searching for reasons to live.
A knowledge of my death is a gift that I give.
I’m telling you now, so it will be easier on you
To celebrate my life, when my death is through.
It all could be over this very night.
With a few tiny pills I could put out my light.
But I don’t want you to be left asking why
You choose to live and I chose to die.
I want you to be a part of my life till I’m gone.
Please be a great part of this farewell song.
I’m thinking I still have ten to twelve years.
That should be plenty of time to dry all your tears.
At that point, there is nothing you should say.
I’ll die with dignity. Hopefully in a humane way.
Even our pets can be comfortably let go.
But for some reason our deaths must be painfully slow.
Perhaps tomorrow I’ll be hit by a car.
It could happen in town or when traveling far.
But if I survive till I’m ready to go,
Please don’t force it to be painful and slow.
Let me have fun. Let me be me,
And when that time comes, celebrate,
I’ll be free.
I’m starting a movement. Join me!
I wrote “I want to die, ask me why” on a tshirt and wore it around town. No one asked me why. So disappointing, but im not giving up.
I am waiting to hear from the city attorney about the legal ramifications of planning my own death. In speaking with our local newsletter agency, it was determined that I should take full advantage of social media to network and create buzz.
The girl there said that the concept is newsworthy, and that I can keep her informed of progress, but I need to get a little more momentum before they would do an article on it.
So, basically I need to make a Facebook page for the cause, start recruiting, etc. I designed a shirt on Booster.com, but it might need a different design too.
Here’s a link for that: https://www.booster.com/dyingwithstyle. You can actually buy the shirt and support awareness, but there is a minimum order amount, so if I can’t sell enough, they won’t print.
I’m doing this, I will find a way to get it viral or something, please help! If you know web design, I could use a site. If you have ideas for a shirt to get people talking, please share. I also could use some sort of trademark or logo for all my material, if any of you do design.
I’m thinking of calling all of us who support this idea the Proactive Death Squad. Provocative enough?
I’m asking for free help, resources, etc. if you have any knowledge of fundraising/crowd sourcing, please give me ideas too! Thanks everyone!
So I’m on this thing about assisted suicide/euthanasia/etc.
I need press. So, this is my latest brilliant idea. You know crowd sourcing? I want to make some t-shirts that say “I want to die, ask me why” with a link to some website I create, or my blog or something where I can express and propagate my views.
What do you think? PMAO, will you photoshop me a shirt pic like that? If you are opposed to this, no big deal. I’ll be looking at those t-shirt design websites today. More to come soon!
Robin Williams recently passed away. More accurately, Robin Williams recently killed himself in a manner which would be considered “cruel and unusual” punishment for criminals.
Why, with all the resources, human rights, medications, etc.? Why does a person with plenty of money, resources, etc have to resort to something like that? Why do people with terminal, excruciating and humiliating illnesses have to watch helplessly as they deteriorate?
Why does everyone talk about how suicide is a tragedy? Because it is, even though it doesn’t have to be.
There are millions of self-help books which reference proactive living. Planning ahead is considered wise when planning for kids college, or preparing a will, or buying insurance, yet planning ahead for your own death means you’re unstable, in need of counseling or psychiatric care.
This, my dear readers, is absolute bullshit. We can buy burial plots, we can sign advance directives, we can even pick out our caskets long before we pass away. Why then can we not also determine the time, place, and method of our departure? Oh, that’s right, we can determine that…
As long as we do it in a secret, cruel and unusual sort of way.
We can plan our retirement, but we have to wait as long as possible before some terminal condition takes our independence, bladder control, sanity, and dignity.
I don’t get it. There is no way I can do this alone people. I am more than willing to be the first person to proactively “pass away”, but there are lots of people who need/want/deserve it sooner than I do. Please help me!
I’m wanting to get legislation advocating for the freedom to choose when/how to die. Human rights, pro-choice, senior citizen, disability, and many other advocates should be all over this. Please, reblogging this post or the prior one will help. Social media, news outlets, something, please. I can’t do this alone.
Not right now, geeze, I’m not suicidal. I’m not homicidal, and if you are, please unfollow me.
This is a wife, and mother, with multiple sclerosis, and I’m in a wheelchair.
Please help spread the word about PD (proactive dying).I would like to set a date for my euthanasia.
For more info, keep reading, or just hit like/reblog now to spread the word. Thank you
Multiple sclerosis is not a terminal illness. It is disabling, and being accident prone doesn’t help any. I don’t want to die soon, but I would like to choose a date in the future when I would have my procedure. We put dogs to sleep, we have funerals, etc. but we can’t plan ahead?
Everyone should be able to die. The only reason we don’t already plan the date of it is because of stereotypical and traditional ideas. It’s time to start changing that. Please help me spread the word.
To be continued…
*In a way, I kind of am homicidal, but only toward myself, and it isn’t anytime soon, so don’t be freaks about this please.
You would feel the same way if you saw the look in your kids’ eyes. When you can’t tell who is in more pain, you, or your wife watching helplessly. I know the arguments. I know the reasons. I used to believe them too. Believe them…hell, I preached them…
“Your life is not in your hands! It is appointed unto man once to die. Does that say it is appointed unto man once to feel sorry for himself? It is appointed unto man once to feel some pain? If God wanted you to take your life, he would have put an “easy” button on our bodies so we could check out any time the going gets rough. GOD is the one who decides. He can heal or destroy. Blessed be the name of the Lord in sickness and in health.”
Oh yeah, I believed it alright. I’ll never forget the pained look in Stephanie’s eyes after she talked to me about her mom…
“Pastor Bill, what if someone is hurting…scared…”
“You must believe. You must have faith. There is a reason that she is still here. Don’t give in to the temptation to take the easy way out. I know that it is hard, but God can heal! You can’t forget that. He can take her mind and make it sharp again. If he can stop the mouths of lions, don’t you believe he can give your momma some peace?”
“I know he can. He could…you don’t understand though. She doesn’t know who we are. She is scared of the nurses, driven to madness by the constant beeping. If she has a clear moment, she begs us to take her life. The only reason she is even alive now is because of the medications they pump into her.”
“I am sure it is hard. She needs you to be strong…”
We never did finish that conversation. That is the problem with being a pastor. There is always someone waiting in line to shake your hand and tell you “nice sermon”. She probably didn’t think I cared. I know I didn’t fully understand…
I do now though. How the accident happened, I still can’t remember, but I will never forget the look in my kids eyes when they realized I had just lost control of my bowels. The fear in my wife’s face as she realized that the church would only cover the immediate costs from the accident, not the costs of a few months of inpatient care, and a year, if I’m lucky of home health. “Health” in which I will be lucky to remember who my wife is, as the internal injuries slowly kill me. No one should have to watch their kids wipe their dad’s ass or watch their wife give up her life to care for someone whose “life” isn’t really living at all.
Hobbler’s note: I need to know any objections to assisted suicide. Also any views for it. I wrote that story as fiction, but there are many people in far worse shape than anything I can imagine. Please share your opinions. I was born to take this debate to the next level, and this is your chance to make a difference.
There are some things in life that are difficult for me to understand. This issue is one of them.
I can’t understand why it is ok to put our dog out of its misery when it is old and can hardly eat, but when it comes to our grandfather…well, that’s just inhuman. We explain to our kids how “the right thing to do” is to put our cat down after being hit by a car, but when our loved one can only speak long enough to beg us to help them go quickly…we are appalled by the thought of “murdering” them.
We (as a society) say that it is okay to have an abortion, but when our own grandmother, who has lived a long, full, dignified life is now unable to control her bowels and bladder, not to mention her mind…it is best to just clean her up and pretend that she wants to exist as long as possible in a hospital room that she is frightened of each morning.
On movies and in reality, we often hear people say “at least he/she died doing what he or she loved.” Meanwhile, the father who gave 30 years of his life in service to our country is in so much pain that he can’t even see or hear his kids because his head is thrown back in screams of horror…it would have been okay if he died in the war, but we are going to make his life as long as possible here on our soil.
It is one thing when our loved one wants to fight, wants to live, tries to deal with the pain since it means they can still see their family and friends, etc.
When people are in horrible pain; when they are scared of each new day and in brief moments of sanity, beg us to kill them; when days or weeks of helpless humiliation are all they have left before they pass away…how can we ignore the real issue and only focus on serving our own purposes. Are we really that selfish? If you think the quality of life is not important…well, I don’t understand that.
Maybe you can help…