I am not in a great place right now in terms of productivity and flourishing in my personal and professional life, and every time I waste a day, every time I do something that I enjoy at the moment but which is not productive, I feel ashamed.

I live in a country, where students sometimes end their own lives for not being able to get into their dream college or for not passing the exam that would have allowed them a job in the government bureaucracy, I have always thought that they were not ending their lives because they didn’t pass the exams, but they are ending it because they have indulged in activities which are not conducive to their goal of passing the exam so many times that they have given up on themselves and every time they spend a lot of time doing stuff which they might like to do in the moment but would regret right after they do it, their respect for self decreases a little more and when they get the sad news that could not progress towards their goals, they have not only failed as an aspirant for an exam, they have also failed as a person (for now at least)

i.e., As Dostoevsky states in C&P, “Your worst sin is that you’ve destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing”, even though I might indulge in activities that are pleasurable for me now, they add up to nothing and if I do this enough times, I will just give up and sometimes some people will give up on all not just their goals because they hate themselves so much!

I don’t want to end up like them (even though I feel pity for them, too bad there isn’t an afterlife for them where they can be happy) , so I thought I would whip myself into a frenzy by reading a complication of suicide notes, this is for me an interesting task, but it also serves a purpose of warning me into things that I should not do! And to be completely honest, if I can derive some utility/meaning out of suicide notes, I mean the exact things that advertise the meaninglessness and the ugly side of life, that’s pretty inspirational to me, I mean, it’s like a metaphor for life, trying to life despite all the ugly stuff. So, to come back to the question,

Has there ever been a compilation of suicide notes, if so, where can one get it? And is it a good idea to get it?

PS: Sorry if this comes out the wrong way, if you haven’t noticed, I am not that articulate. Also, I am alright right now, I am good, but I don’t want to end up in a real bad situation, so I am looking for what I should I avoid.

edit 2: I like this community, but I don’t have enough time to respond to everyone, but know that I am grateful and know that I have heard you! :)

  • intensely_human@lemm.ee
    4·
    2 months ago

    Once when I was suicidal I got a lot of benefit from reading Hamlet’s soliloquy from Act 3, Scene 1:

    To be, or not to be: that is the question:
    Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
    The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
    Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
    And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
    No more; and by a sleep to say we end
    The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
    That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
    Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
    To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
    For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
    When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
    Must give us pause: there’s the respect
    That makes calamity of so long life;
    For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
    The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
    The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
    The insolence of office and the spurns
    That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
    When he himself might his quietus make
    With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
    To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
    But that the dread of something after death,
    The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
    No traveller returns, puzzles the will
    And makes us rather bear those ills we have
    Than fly to others that we know not of?
    Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
    And thus the native hue of resolution
    Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
    And enterprises of great pith and moment
    With this regard their currents turn awry,
    And lose the name of action.