Also speaking of death

 　　As a child, I felt death was something distant and had nothing to do with me.

　　Later, as my knowledge grew, I realized death was all around me, a constant companion. Especially after witnessing the horrific deaths of loved ones and friends, I couldn't bear to imagine my own end. I simply couldn't bear the unbearable pain, the utter despair. Therefore, as I grew older, my suicidal thoughts rapidly expanded, urging me to end my life prematurely, to choose death without hesitation.

　　When alone, I often succumbed to suicidal thoughts, trapped in its shadow, determined to find a brief and drastic way to end my life. I imagined myself with a small electronic device, where a simple press of a button would end everything; or I possessed a syringe, where a sharp, powerful needle would pierce my flesh, the stored poison killing me within seconds… From then on, I would cast aside all worldly temptations, all worries and sorrows, free from hatred and pain.

　　I truly fear dying in my hospital bed, injected with large amounts of sedatives, with various machines taking over the functions of my organs, while my own organs suffer dizziness, shortness of breath, difficulty breathing, and nausea... Every day begins and ends in pain, and the most terrifying thing is that I have no idea when this suffering will end. What kind of feeling is it to be a terminally ill person, on the verge of death yet still clinging to life, enduring excruciating pain and suffering unimaginable torment? The treatment itself exacerbates my suffering, prolonging my torment until I finally die. Rather than being in excruciating pain every second, it's better to release myself sooner and die a quick and painless death; perhaps this is the best way to dilute and digest the pain before death.

　　Speaking of which, when I reach my seventies or eighties, I will have been retired for many years, enjoyed what I should have enjoyed, and prepared for what I should have prepared. Moreover, with age, my organs will gradually deteriorate, and I will be plagued by illness, making it completely hopeless to continue realizing my dreams and enjoying life. My mind may still be sharp, but this clarity of consciousness is precisely what torments me, both mentally and physically.

　　I think that in this world, no one is born without a love for life, and no one is born without a fear of death. I am no different; deep down, I don't want to die. I'm not utterly despondent about life and the future, and my living conditions are sufficient to satisfy my basic desires anytime, anywhere. My suicide attempt is simply a way to escape the excruciating pain and waiting before death.

　　Of course, before suicide, I will endure unimaginable inner pain and mental torment. Due to the instinct for survival, I will be caught in a contradiction between life and death. There are many reasons to live, and no one wants to go to paradise in extreme pain. When my fear of the pain before death surpasses my fear of death itself, until the thought of ending my life gradually takes over my mind and becomes the only option, I will focus my attention on those insurmountable problems and ignore the reasons to continue living.

　　I really don't want my family to watch me grow weaker and thinner day by day; I don't want them to be exhausted from caring for me. Suicide is not just about sacrificing myself, but more importantly, about freeing my family. Of course, suicide isn't about "leaving quietly without taking away a single cloud." My suicide was like detonating a bomb among those who cared for me, making them victims of my actions. It made them deeply aware of the impermanence and helplessness of life, and they suffered the pain I left behind, living in a nightmare of my suicide for a long time.

　　Suicide is simple, perhaps even the easiest thing in the world, but it's not something that can be done overnight. In my rural hometown, there was a man named Liu Shengqi who, to escape the pain of dying, planned to end his life prematurely. He meticulously planned every aspect of his suicide. To avoid buying counterfeit drugs, he purchased different brands of rat poison from different towns. On the day of his suicide, he first arranged for his wife to visit relatives in a distant place, then bought fine wine and food, and consumed the rat poison along with the food and wine. Soon, the poison took effect; the excruciating pain made him scream like a pig being slaughtered. Afterward, he jumped and ran around the house wildly, and several hours later, he embarked on his journey to heaven…

　　During my student days, I also had suicidal thoughts. That winter, after failing a final exam, I could no longer bear the suffocating oppression and dullness of the classroom, and I contemplated suicide. Alone on the balcony, facing the gloomy sky and the swirling snowflakes, my mind was in turmoil. At that moment, I prepared to leap, to bid farewell to this world that had caused me so much suffering, to escape the sea of ​​exams; life and death hung in the balance.

　　Suicide, extinguishing life in an instant, is worthy of respect in terms of both courage and awareness. However, if I didn't do it, in the end, I would be the one suffering. When the Nationalist soldiers marched together towards the surging Yellow River during the Battle of Zhongtiao Mountain, when Qu Yuan was swallowed by the river, when Li Zhi committed suicide with a knife, when Wang Guowei leaped into Kunming Lake, wasn't that a tragic and poignant beauty?