Living is hard. We do not take even one innocuous moment within our day to think how hard, but it’s hard. We make a conscious decision to live everyday, with everything we do. Just the mere act of getting up each morning is actively choosing to live. All our little actions and thoughts that follow in succession, are evidence of our will to live. But it’s never easy. Especially when life doesn’t give us so many of the answers we so badly need. Where does one find the strength to continue living then, to make the decision to open our eyes every morning?
Mental illness does not discriminate. That is a powerful fact we usually overlook entirely. But it’s something Ned Vizzini carefully highlights in “It’s Kind of a Funny Story.” He paints the picture of someone who by all appearances has led a perfectly ordinary and happy life. His parents love him, and he’s surrounded by good people. And yet one day, he decides that living is more than he can bear. Living is actually something he’d rather not bear the burden of at all. It is an impulse born of living in our judgmental society. Oh, look at that, poor little suburban boy who doesn’t want to live because he’s had such a tough life. When did it become acceptable to be depressed and not want life only if you fall under the categories of extreme misfortune? When did misery become so selective with who it applies too? Vizzini puts all of that in perspective, having experienced a psychiatric ward himself, with words that ring true. “What’s a triumph is that you woke up this morning and decided to LIVE. THAT’S a triumph. that’s what you did today.”
“You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. Every time you don’t throw yourself down the stairs, that’s a choice. Every time you don’t crash your car, you re-enlist,” author Chuck Palahniuk said in “Survivor.” Some may say that Palahniuk’s work is rife with triggers for those that are depressed, with this one taking the prize. After all, the protagonist is a wee bit obsessed with death and accidentally finds himself at the end of those seeking the suicide prevention hotline, whereupon he encourages his callers to take the plunge into the dark abyss. But I’d disagree. The manic absurdity and shameless egging of the protagonist is what prompts those teetering on the edge to re-evaluate their decision. It might not be for everyone who has been in that place, grappling with their decision between life and death. But for those that have an appreciation for the offensive and for coming to grips with hope through shitty humor, Palahniuk delivers to shock and even recoil. And he does so effectively, slapping you out of the stupor that you can’t seem to escape.
Susanna Kaysen’s “Girl, Interrupted” is not a title we’re unfamiliar with. It is somewhat of a hallmark for the insanity that plagues us and the temptation death holds all wrapped very nicely within the tales of girls stuck together in a mental facility. Despite some of its faults, the perspective it offers on craving the end of your life and how it insidiously crawls everywhere inside of you is one that comforts as well as helps us cope and understand. It helps you come to terms with how sickening your own insanity can be to yourself and the callous world around you, and how the process of learning to not want death isn’t easy or quick. But it’s possible and one we all secretly yearn for. We can think as little of ourselves as we want to, and yet we’d still be unable to entirely belittle ourself: “I told her once I wasn’t good at anything. She told me survival is a talent.”
It takes an incredible amount of strength to make the decision not to kill yourself. It takes an insurmountable amount of will and spirit to make the decision to live instead. It takes even more to come back from attempts made to end that life. To not end it and not attempt to end it again. So not once should such a moment be thought of as a testament to our weakness or failure. Instead it’s one of great strength, sheer willpower and if perhaps not hope itself then the wild and heavy idea of it. We should always choose to live then. Choose life over the moment that makes you want to throw down the mantle and give it all up. We should want to have our life wrenched out of our hands with our last gasping and struggling breath, heels scratching bloody fighting for it, rather than ever let it abruptly end, slip or fade away while we watch silently from the sidelines.
What books do you think capture these feelings? Let Maham know at mhasan4@wisc.edu.
