Living Well and the Right to Die: Why I Write About It

“Living Well and the Right to Die: Why I Write About It”
© 2009 Misha BearWoman Metzler


Why I Write About the Right to Die: What Others Sometimes Think

1. As a cry for help.

No. Announcements of upcoming suicide and/or suicide attempts may be that. My writings are not that, at least not in the sense of how American society views the desire for chosen death. Let me make the distinction here between suicide and self euthanasia (often called self deliverance).

I take suicide to be a sometimes impulsive emotional and/or psychological reaction to life events and/or circumstances. Our social propaganda would have it that suicide is “a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” Indeed, what I personally consider suicide can be an unretractable action taken in a situation that could be resolved given time and proper resources (internal and external). Friends who are believers in reincarnation have restated it as “a temporary solution to a permanent problem.” If indeed that is so, the underlying pattern which led to the suicide will have to be dealt with again in the next incarnation. In other words, there is no way to successfully run away from your problems. “No matter where you go, there you are;” you bring yourself and your patterns with you wherever you go.

Self euthanasia, on the other hand, is a rationally considered compassionate response to extreme, ongoing, and unrelenting suffering. I return again and again to Isaac Asimov’s quote inside the front cover of the third edition of Final Exit: The Practicalities of Self-Deliverance and Assisted Suicide for the Dying: “No decent human being would allow an animal to suffer without putting it out of its misery. It is only to human beings that human beings are so cruel as to allow them to live on in pain, in hopelessness, in living death, without moving a muscle to help them. …”

I am not asking for assisted suicide. Although I would if I could. I would much rather live as much of my life as is reasonably possible, so as to glean as much as I can from the experience of this lifetime. After all these years I have put into learning and growing, why would I want to cut out before the certificates are passed out? As I have said before, I am determined to act to end my own suffering if it reaches an unacceptable level and if I still retain the capacity (physical, mental, and emotional/psychological) to do so. I recently realized that I may be one of the majority who put their contingency plans in place and then never choose to activate them.

Wouldn’t it be nice if I could allow my body and mind to deteriorate, knowing I would receive loving and affordable attention to the needs I could no longer care for myself? I have come to realize this is the ending I would prefer, rather than having to “prematurely” choose my final exit while I still retain the capacity for implementing such a decision. I would wish there would be a compassionate soul with the courage to decide on my behalf if and when the suffering became too extreme. What a sacred and very serious responsibility this would be. There are only a few I know whom I would trust with this decision. Yet I will ask none of them. Such acts of compassion are currently illegal in the United States.

My current dilemma is that above all, I am committed to my personal process, as guided by Spirit, whatever that may be. I know that my higher power would never do anything against my greatest good and the greatest good for all. I also know from experience that I may experience great distress around experiences and events I do not understand, and that I don’t know where the boundary is between things that “just happen” and events that are part of the lessons I have taken on for this lifetime.

2. So I can be talked out of it.

No. Some of the responses I get (mainly from people not versed in Right to Die issues) are “don’t give up,” “you still have things to contribute,” and “there is always hope.” I shall address each of these individually.

“Don’t give up.” In these cases, I try to convey the difference between giving up and acceptance. Acceptance is a powerful process that can be the beginning of transformation, the freeing up of energy to apply toward what is and what is becoming, rather than keeping it bound up in struggling against an unresolvable situation. It is allowing oneself to think outside of the box, perhaps even to climb out of it completely.

I don’t know if this is only an American attitude, a part of the idealized rugged individualism of those who can pull themselves up by their own bootstraps, who keep trying regardless of the odds, and who will therefore succeed. We tout these success stories, giving little if any acknowledgement of the vast majority who will never make CEO or President of the United States (or even become astronauts). We are seen to have a character flaw if we ever give in, give up, relinquish our determination even when all perceivable options have been exhausted.

“You still have things to contribute.” I agree. My writing is part of that. And only I and Spirit, and ultimately only Spirit, can know what these things are. If even I do not completely know the purpose of/for my life, how can you dare to have the hubris to think you know what my soul’s path is? And to dictate the acceptable parameters of my decisions regarding my own life?

“There is always hope.” Well, yes and no. My first (emotional) response is, “what universe do you live in?” Many stories abound of hopeless situations. Do you remember slavery? The Holocaust? I hope because I cannot stop myself from doing so. I am, after all, one of the winners of the lottery of evolution. If there were insufficient motive for self preservation in any of my ancestors, “I” may never have had a chance to be here (the “I” that is this body, not the soul that inhabits it).

Another version of “there is always hope” is: “but have you tried x yet?” Do you really want me to go through the catalog of all the options I have considered and tried, and the many times I have re-investigated potential options, only to again find them closed to me? It is not fun for me to have to do this with people, though sometimes I will, to try and help them understand. Yet doing so sometimes leaves me with the feeling that I am being required to justify myself and my position. Sometimes people accept the logic of it, but not the decision itself. They find it inherently unsatisfying and distasteful, and perhaps underneath all their rational layers there lies a bone-chillingly terrifying fear of death and everything that touches upon it.

Suggestions for things I might consider usually range from things that “hold out hope” to individual anecdotal successes (such as a treatment that brought a dead lizard back to life or cured a person of a brain tumor). Sorry, I have tried more of these approaches with low statistical likelihood of helping than I care to remember. Why must I leave no stone unturned?

I do recognize that in some cases the impulse driving the offering of suggestions is an expression of caring and concern, and wanting me to stick around so the person can enjoy me more. Some of them even say that outright! All I can do is affirm and validate their love and concern, and assure them that I plan to last as long as I can (by my own definition) and that I do not expect to act in haste. In my own way, I try to remind them (when I remember to do so) that they already know me as a thorough and rational person who has lived through many challenges.

I do not say this to evoke feelings of guilt in anyone: Do people know what it feels like when they tell me I am gifted and that I still have gifts to express in the world? I know they intend it as affirmation and encouragement. Part of my response, though, is feeling a burden is being laid upon me. When will I have given enough that I may have permission to set down the burden of my “gifts?” Am I not allowed to have my own needs, must I forever serve? Am I not serving sufficiently, to openly and honestly share my (what I believe to be my end-of-life) process as I live it?


Why I Write About the Right to Die: My Reasons (As Best I Am Aware at the Moment)

1. As a social activist. I think I have always been, to one degree or another, a person who strives for the social good. I believe talking about social taboos can be very healing for those affected (dare I even say “afflicted”?) by them. There is much power in being able to share your deepest feelings and experiences with at least one other person and hear them say, “you think/feel that way, too? You have experienced this also?”

Besides the personal good that can come from talking openly about taboos in general, a dialogue can be created in the public arena where various aspects of the issues surrounding the Right to Die can be discussed openly (and hopefully rationally, although this can be a very emotional topic both for Right to Die supporters and their opponents). Public discussion has at least the possibility of raising social consciousness, and one (this one, at least) would hope an examination of the social conscience as well.

The most fundamental part of my activism, though, is the personal level. I am fed up with the disenfranchised, marginalized, invisiblized remaining unseen and unheard. As one of these, I refuse to remain quiet. I want “our” voice to be heard, and I will use my personal voice and the revealing of my personal story as a means to that end.

2. As a part of my personal process. I am a writer and a creative artist. It is only natural for me to express and explore my process through writing and other creative forms.

3. Why I am publishing openly before my death: I read the story of a man, Jim LeRoy, who went through his own process of writing about self deliverance a decade ago. He forced himself to live months beyond what he would otherwise have been able to endure in order to get his (our) story out. He made sure to legally appoint a literary representative who was to see to his book’s publication. After his successful self deliverance (his second attempt; his first attempt was before he began writing about it), there was objection to the publication of his book. As a result, only copies he sent out before his death were distributed. His book remains obscure and mostly unknown.

I am determined to not have that happen with my writings. By making my writings available now, on the internet and by hard copy, I hope to ensure that the voice for my invisible illness will not go unheard again.

4. Why me? Like Jim LeRoy, I am in a unique position to be “this decade’s” voice. Having highly developed written communication skills over my lifetime, I am still able to access them to some degree even during my impairment. Also like Jim, I have been suffering for more than a decade and half, with increasing incapacities. I have explored the possibility of self deliverance, and have chosen it as a potential optional for myself. I still retain (at least at times) the ability to analyze, understand, and clearly communicate the complex issues surrounding this subject.

I have always had a tendency to teach what I learn, and this subject is no different. I also have the desire and willingness to spend a substantial portion of what remains of my capacities on what I consider an important, impactful (at least for some individuals) project. After having stalled in my first attempt at writing a comprehensive book in mid-2008, I discovered I am able to write more successfully when I do it in smaller segments. That is why I am writing in the form of essays, open journal entries, and poetry (all relatively short, stand-alone pieces).

So: I am in insider, I retain sufficient perception and communication skills, and I find it meaningful for me to engage in this project. Hey, whatever keeps giving me a reason to live, right?


Final Words

I expect I have not covered all the bases here, yet I think what I have covered is sufficient to convey my basic idea. Having one’s capacities for self-oversight degrade certainly presents a challenge to this recovering perfectionist. :-)


2009 June 05