If you truly believe in someone's immortality, they cannot die. All they do is take themselves away from a particular situation, one in which they do not feel strong enough to handle. Are they strong enough? Perhaps, and they don't realize it. But that is not a lesson you can force someone into. I believe in compassion over anger. What they believe is in hopelessness, and that may or may not be the facts, but it is the facts for them.
I'm made wise to this because of my illness. For years, doctors simply tried to convince me my hallucinations weren't real. They are not as dramatic as the example I put forward now, but this is my best explanation:
Let's say I see a blue car. I can see it, smell it, feel it, touch it, hear it if it's on. No one else can see this car; it's parked on the curb. They walk right through it, but when I try to walk through it whack into it and bang my shins on the bumper. For years, doctors tried to convince me the car wasn't real (because it wasn't). But by insisting to myself that it wasn't real, I wasted years trying to walk through what amounted to a solid car, just because everyone else could. It took people like AgtOrange to make me see it DIDN'T MATTER if the car was real or not, what mattered is that, for me, I had to treat it as if it were real. So rather than try to convince myself I was crazy, and try and walk through the car, I had to treat it as if it existed and walk around it, even if no one else had to do that.
One can insist that there is no need to be hopeless, and maybe there isn't, but for that person, the hopelessness is real. So rather than try to convince them of something that doesn't exist for you, or maybe in reality at all, teach them to deal with feelings of hopelessless, because they ARE real for that person. In Discworld terms (a fantasy novel world), this would be the difference between psychology and headology. Pratchett has it that if a man believes he is being chased by a tiger, a shrink tries to convince him the tiger is all in his mind, but a headologist gives him a whip and a chair and tells him to work it out himself.
Many people still can't accept this about me, that my world is vastly different from your reality. Reality is just what the majority accept as the truth, and I'm a very small minority. My world IS different. There are voices in it and people in it that no one else hears. Sometimes I dream things that come true (even in your reality). I accept that my reality is different, I don't expect others to react to things only I can see, smell, taste, or hear. I only accept things I can interact with; I take nothing on 'faith' and that's why most of my friends are atheists even though I know a Higher Being exists because I can talk to Them. If I couldn't, I wouldn't believe in Them either and I respect that in other people. So when I'm feeling down and hopeless, don't try to convince me of hope, even if I should feel hopeful. Instead, help me deal with the hopelessness as if it is a thing I'm going to have to work with forever. If you can do that, you can prove to me by default that hope exists, because you will not get me to take such a thing on faith. I don't care how many other people have been through the experience, those other people aren't me, those other people don't see my 'blue car'.
In other words, if you can't give me hope on my terms, it isn't really hope.
Something else he said from the movie (the husband commits suicide) is that now the wife has to suffer her whole life because of her husband's actions. Here you are, trying to sell me on the idea that happiness is possible no matter what, but then stating she has to suffer forever? That feels like a contradiction in your own ideology. Maybe the wife should learn to be responsible for her own happiness, as you claim. And the whole statement about, the guy should man up and take care of her as his responsibility, is just a bunch of hogwash. She is her OWN responsibility and no one else's. She needs to take care of herself. Just because the husband couldn't manage his happiness, it has nothing to do with her. In fact, now that he's gone, maybe she can sell of some of those things he couldn't afford and get a life that doesn't involve a husband who thinks material goods are the way to happiness.
I personally think it's selfish to not respect someone's right to die. I think each person is responsible for knowing themselves. It is our JOBS to learn what we are and are not capable of, and it is different for everybody. Whether they are right or not is irrelevant. If you believe you can't go on, you can't. That's probably not true, but it is true for them, it's their blue car. The trick is teaching people how to avoid getting run over, not to teach them the car doesn't exist.
Either way, despite him doing me a grave harm by insisting suicide is a selfish act (it makes me feel selfish, and the hamster wheel here is "I'm selfish, therefore I'm a bad person, therefore I don't deserve to live, therefore I should kill myself"), he also did me a good turn. Yes, by saying to me he thought suicide was a selfish act, it turned around and made me want to kill myself. But I'm better than my hamster wheel; I'm getting a grip on making it stop. I have to work with it as if it is real, as if it works by some innate illogical logic in my head, I have to stop the wheel because it is real thoughts I think that I have to work around. The good turn was, he left me some energy. I don't know if he meant to or not, but I do know he did.
I've forgotten how scary the world becomes when my energy starts to spark. Usually one of the first things that happens is I get attacked in my sleep by energy-sucking entities; I call them demons although I'm not sold on the idea of hell. I guess there doesn't have to be Hell for there to be demons, they just are more like parasites than minions. Still scary as fuck.
I dreamt I jumped out of my window and started flying around. This is pretty common with the new medication I'm on. I was in DC, only it was a really distorted DC and I kept getting lost looking for downtown. In fact, I kept getting lost in places that weren't even the city, little pockets of otherworld, or darkness, or country lanes with lots of trees. I could see cars driving around, but no people at all. One apartment complex had mannequins on the balconies, and I think they were actually people, but because they were plastic in this otherworld I couldn't interact with them. I saw Georgetown Hospital, got lost in the trees around there and noticed a bunch of sand/salt trucks waiting like a storm was about to happen, but so far the skies were clear. Found some part of M street, but couldn't find where it reached downtown. Finally was wandering through a deserted shopping mall (Georgetown Mall?) and ran into an actual person, a very well dressed black man in a suit with an expensive gold watch on. I flew up and told him I was lost, could he point me in the direction of the city.
"Actually, I'm going that way myself, why don't I give you a ride?" So we go through the parking garage, which is empty except for his car. I notice right away his car isn't very nice considering the expensive suit he is wearing. Suddenly, I don't want to get in, something is wrong, why is he here when no one else is? I don't want to be in a confined space with this man.
"Hey, I'm having such a good time flying around, do you mind if I just hang on to the roof?" He says that's fine and gets in the car, but doesn't move or turn it on. He keeps checking his watch.
"Um, why aren't we going?"
"We're waiting for someone," he says, and now I'm really nervous. Whoever he is waiting for, is NOT someone I want to meet. So I take off, and he starts up the car and is following me, but of course I can outdistance him because the car has to follow roads and I'm flying. Then again, I keep getting lost and having to circle back, while he seems to know exactly where he's going and all the shortcuts.
I make it back to my room, and Shaolin is standing there by the bed. I feel better being home.
"Now turn around and lock the door," he says.
"What? What door?" I respond.
"Now turn around and LOCK... THE.... DOOR," he insists. I turn around and floating where the window is there is a tiny little door, about a foot high and six inches wide. I didn't see it because it was behind me, but apparently I'd just flown through it to get to my room.
So I lock the door, using a number code to close it. Apparently it needs one to open it, and the same one to lock it, and it only locks/unlocks from this side.
"You always have to remember to lock the door when you come back. You keep leaving the doors open. You ALWAYS have to remember to lock the door," he says while I'm closing it. When it's shut, I feel better, as if I've really closed something and whoever was chasing me can't get into my room now. It was at this time I woke up.
I wrote to Shaolin, asking him about the dream (he has yet to respond) and if the number code means anything, because I usually don't recall numbers when I wake up. Then I went back to bed (I'd taken some meds when I got triggered, and they knock me out). Now I dreamed I was in my old childhood bed, and two girls pull up in a tiny car, like an oversized Power Wheels convertible. The driver is a blonde with curly hair, and she says, "hey, how do you get to M street?" I don't answer, I can see a sheet of something like glass between us, but even so I feel terror. She gets out of the car.
"I know you know how to get there, you were just past there," she says. I don't see any door to close, so I trying visualize shutting and locking one, floating in the glass barrier. This totally pisses her off.
"HEY, you think that's funny?" She starts screaming and beating at the glass. "You think that's funny? How bout I show you something funny?" And then she takes this deep breath and her body sort of expands... and I wake up shaking. I call AgtOrange, and he lays with me awhile until I fall asleep again.
Now I'm with a group awaiting some kind of invasion, and I'm only armed with a gun with one bullet left, and a broom handle with a knife tied to the end. I hide behind some kind of bookcase, thinking the first invader that comes through I will trip with the broom and then stab, and maybe I can get a second one with the bullet. Then even if I get killed, it's okay because I took two with me. Only the first invader to run by me is too quick. He jumps to the side and I manage to get the knife to his throat, but he says, "hey it's just me, it's Robert." He's a small, black kid, about 14 or 15. I'm trying to figure out if I know him, because I was with a pretty big group and I didn't know everyone well. That's when he takes the opportunity to attack. I try to block him by visualizing that door again, but I'm not fast enough and he slips through the open door. Then I try to visualize a shield of white energy around me, and that slows him but it isn't doing much. Then I wake up.
Only I'm not really awake. I ask AgtOrange to get me some medicine because now I have a headache. He does, and hands it to me, only something is wrong and I don't want to swallow this medicine. Something is wrong... and I wake up for real.
And now I'm really disturbed. Because in the dream, I KNEW something was up, but it scares me how close I was to swallowing whatever it was the fake AgtOrange was trying to give me. Now my reality is on very shaky ground, because that felt entirely too real. So I get up and take some headache medicine, because it was really hurting, but I go and get it myself because I'm not swallowing ANYTHING someone else gives me. And I fall back asleep.
Now I'm in a lecture hall, trying to ask the professor if a white energy shield is the best way to defend against other beings. He says he's never 'held much truck with the energy shield as an effective deterrent' but he won't tell me a better one and suddenly declares the lecture is over and leaves.
After that, I woke up again, said "to hell with this" and smudged the apartment to cleanse it of evil spirits. And when I went to sleep, I had my usual weird disjointed dreams that don't seem to make sense or mean anything. Make of it what you want. I also woke up with a feather stuck to my clothes and I have no idea how it got there.
So I didn't do anything from schedule yesterday, except take my meds, stay sober, and self-care. That's 3/15 pts, just 20%. But I've still learned a bunch, for one thing, that even though I tend to get overwhelmed and hopeless feeling, N'Hall never does. I should have her try meditation and energy work, maybe teach her the circle walking, together we can help to heal the vessel (our body) and it will still do me some good. For that matter, she should be the one learning martial arts. It's hard for me to come to grips with this, but perhaps I shouldn't be the dominant personality any longer. I don't feel comfortable giving up my seat of control, but she is so much better put together, calmer and happier.
No, nevermind, she just told me she doesn't want total control. It 'wouldn't be right' because it isn't really her body, she's just the interloper who is here to help out. Somehow I get the feeling I'm going to have to master all of this myself. Well that's just dandy *grimace*
And now I'm off to the neurologist. Bleh.