Suicide is An Easy Way Out…

…for the atheist.

I can say with 100% certainty that if I truly did not believe that this world was created by an all-knowing God that I would “off” myself without even having to put much thought into it. Who would want to live in a world where unjustified violence and oppression exists? Who would want to live in a world where the final destination of a man who lives a life of good actions is EXACTLY equivalent to him who lives a life of crime and violence?

If I did not think that there was an after-life; and that man will not be held accountable for all of his actions; and that after one’s death, nothing at all happens; then what’s the point of living? Wouldn’t killing myself just get me there quicker? Why put myself through all the pain and suffering which we all inevitably experience here on earth if I don’t have to?

Let me tell you a story about a young boy named Michael. Michael is one of five children in his family and was born and raised in Canada by a lower-middle class Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad immigrated to Canada from a foreign country in search for a better life for their two young boys in the early 80′s. Upon settling in a small town in Southern Ontario, they had 3 more children. Michael was one of them. Michael didn’t have much of a choice when it came to the matter of his existence, and as he would learn later in life, he would have actually preferred to have a choice so he could say, “No, I don’t want to exist!”. But Michael wasn’t there when Mom and Dad were procreating to stop them from bringing himself into existence, a process which always begins from a single sperm cell – a miracle within itself. Michael did not choose to be born into a lower-middle-class family, nor did he choose to have a black father or a white mother. Needless to say, I think it’s pretty obvious that Michael didn’t have even the slightest choice in his physical appearance…

And so the story goes on. Michael is born nine months later on a cool fall evening. It’s a joyous occasion and his parents are very grateful that he is a healthy child with no complications. Now let’s fast forward five years. Michael is in kindergarten. Everything is going great and Michael is making friends. What a classic Jim Dandy situation we have here! Let’s fast forward another year. Now Michael is 6. Things aren’t quite Jim Dandy anymore. I mean, things are good… but not as quite as good as they were last year. So instead of being Jim Dandy, things are only Dandy. Michael starts to notice that he is being treated a little differently than everyone else by his peers. He’s not quite sure why and he has an incredible amount of difficulty trying to explain this to his parents. He finds it kind of weird that he has to give other children in his class his lunch and candy so they stop calling him names. But it solves the issue of name-calling so Michael is thankful for that and doesn’t complain.

Now let’s fast forward another year. If you’re still following me, Michael is now 7 years old. Things definitely aren’t Jim Dandy anymore. Heck, they’re not even Dandy! Truthfully, things are getting worse by the day and Michael is struggling to understand why- after all, he’s only 7 years old. He feels like he’s the only one in the playground being followed around by a group of boys with a walkie-talkie, communicating to another group of boys what they’re doing- following a helpless child with a stick and poking fun at him. Michael was taught “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me”. Unfortunately, we’re led to believe that nobody was learned enough in the matter to explain to Michael that words can actually cause much more damage than sticks and stones ever could. I’m referring to psychological damage, of course. It wasn’t until a boy shouted “Hey chocolate face!” that Michael FINALLY understood why he was being treated the way he was. And he felt pretty stupid that he couldn’t figure it out earlier. Of course it was because of his skin colour! It’s not like the rest of his classmates weren’t predominantly white or anything.

Michael didn’t understand why skin colour would be a justifiable basis for mistreating someone, but at least he had some sort of blurry explanation as to why he was being treated differently – or so he thought. He would later learn that people would also treat him differently because of his beliefs… but that’s a whole other story on its own. Over the next few days, the “chocolate face” name-calling gained popularity with other children. Michael responded by shouting back “Shut up, vanilla face! Chocolate tastes better anyway!”. After a few weeks Michael couldn’t handle it any more. He still didn’t want to bring it to the attention of his parents, for life at home had it’s own set of challenges. So he did the only thing he knew how to do well – he prayed. He probably prayed more than all the other seven year olds he knew combined. “What was he praying for?”, you might be wondering. Simple: He asked God if he could be white – even for just a day! He picked a random day where he believed that God would fulfill his dream.

When that day arrived, Michael woke up in the morning. He didn’t really consider how physically impossible it would be for him to turn white over night, but he was so convinced that it would happen. The first thing Michael did when he woke up was look in the mirror. Imagine his surprise! He was still a “chocolate face”! Michael was angry, upset and confused. “I thought God loved me!” he wondered. “Why wouldn’t he answer my prayers if he loved me? I prayed so much!”. Michael was much too young to even understand the questions he was asking, let alone trying to find an answer that would make sense. So he did the only thing a young, emotionally confused boy could do. He crawled back into bed and began weeping. He shed so many tears that his pillow case looked like it just came out of a washing machine. He pretended to be sick that day so he could avoid going to school. Luckily, it worked. His mother was a stay at home mom so he spent the day with her while his father rushed off to work and his siblings went to school… including his younger five year-old brother who had just started kindergarten.

Micheal thought he was clever and deceived his mother into thinking he was sick. While the rest of the family attended to their daily affairs, the middle-sized suburban house was occupied only by Micheal and his mother. She called him into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “I don’t feel well” replied Micheal who thought he would have to keep up his clever little lie in order to avoid disappointing his mother. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?” asked his mother. Micheal just stared at her. His mother was smiling. Micheal knew that no matter how clever he thought he was, he was obviously no match for the wisdom and thoughtfulness which his loving mother possessed. Micheal sat in her lap and tried explaining that kids at school were making fun of him and he wasn’t quite sure why. “They call me chocolate face and say my clothes are too fancy” recalled Michael. His mother hugged him and explained, “God works in mysterious ways, my dear son. We cannot question His wisdom nor can we comprehend it”. His mother had nothing else to add except for, “Keep a close relationship with your Lord and he will never abandon you. Live up to your name!”.

And this is where I’m going to end this story. There’s no sense continuing because after that conversation with his mother, Micheal never felt better. He understood that some things, while they may never be fully understood, they can actually be in his benefit despite his own biased thoughts. And it’s for that reason that one of my favorite prayers is “Oh God, give the the ability to see things for what they are and not what they appear to be.”

Now I have a question for you: Would you agree that this seven year old boy named Micheal went through a lot of emotional pain and suffering prior to this conversation with his mother? Would you not agree that someone who goes through this level of pain would at least consider suicide as a way to put an end to it? And don’t think for a second that he didn’t. For I’m sure as you’ve guessed by now, that little seven year old boy’s name was not actually Michael. It was Ahmed. And Ahmed is now 24 years old and he is sitting in front of his computer at 5AM with a few tears in his eyes on a Thursday morning as he relives his childhood from memory.

You see, the truth is that we do live in a world of pain and suffering. And it’s up to us to endure those difficulties and overcome them in order to enjoy an eternal life of happiness in the hereafter. Everyone is faced with their own trials and tribulations. And it’s not going to be easy. Bear in mind that:

For philosophers, suicide raises a host of conceptual, theological, moral, and psychological questions. Among these questions are: What makes a person’s behavior suicidal? What motivates such behavior? Is suicide morally permissible, or even morally required in some extraordinary circumstances? Is suicidal behavior rational?

Plato suggests at least some men, namely the wise or wisest (a class that includes and may even be restricted to, philosophers) are willing, perhaps even eager, to die.

Socrates tells Phaedo that Man ought not to kill himself because he possesses no actual ownership of himself, as he is actually the property of the gods. He says, “I too believe that the gods are our guardians, and that we men are a chattel of theirs”. While the philosopher seeks always to rid himself of the body, and to focus solely on things concerning the soul, to commit suicide is prohibited as man is not the sole possessor of his body. For, as stated in the Phaedo: “the philosopher more than other men frees the soul from association with the body as much as possible” . Body and soul are separate, then. The philosopher frees himself from the body because the body is an impediment to the attainment of truth.

Another important point I want to mention before I sign off on this blog post is the importance a strong family backbone. I have nothing against women working and I actually encourage it. However it is important to at least consider the opportunity cost you are foregoing if you are a career woman with children at home. Is neglecting your children really justified by earning a few extra dollars? For if it wasn’t for my mother and her wisdom, who knows… The Ahmed we all know today could have been dead if she wasn’t mindful of what I was going through (something which could have easily been overlooked with the distraction of work). Or worse, I could have ended up down a completely different path and led a life of violence and crime. I did not address the issues faced by a single mother because I am not personally familiar with it and it does not relate to the topic of this blog post. However, I hope to discuss that issue in a future post.

I want to end by saying that I do not intend to impose my belief on anyone. I am just a person who has lived through some difficulty, as well all have. I am merely trying to fulfill my responsibility as a rational human being by informing those who haven’t had the opportunity to consider alternative perspectives on life and our existence here on earth.

Peace,
Ahmed