Apologies to argue, but I must say a few things.
"In the end, she died because she wanted to. Simple as that."
You could just as easily say "[Why did she die?] In the end, she died because she died. Simple as that."
"But why did she die?", well, "because she wanted to".
But why did she
want to? And now you are swimming in a plethora of reasons,
for and against. Suicide is not a simple situation. It is a complex situation of many
different desires and drives, experiences and processes; many of them having complex interrelations with each other—some conflicting, others corroborating. But it's a thought terminating cliché to dismiss all of that genuine complexity as "just wanting to die". That completely leaves unanswered the question of
why. There can be several whys and several why nots, it's a complex equation; not as simple as people like to make it
seem like it is. (This goes for both pro-suicidal and anti-suicidal people.)
And you're right: once 30 hits it's downhill from there. More expectations, societal pressure, problems, anguish and suffering, your parents dying off leaving you helpless and unable to have a stable home, homelessness, if they don't like you jobless too, on the streeet getting robbed, stabbed, SA'd, anything...
Parents dying off does not necessarily
have to leave you totally helpless. One can figure out how to cultivate the sources for the things they need slowly, by examining what they need, what would be required to get those things, and rationally assessing all factors of resistance one is experiencing between them and what they want and what they need. Getting a job is indeed difficult; but possible.
Many people have awful childhoods, awful teenhoods, and then go on to view life from 30 onwards as preferable and better than the rest of their lives. As a child you practically serve as an inhabitant of your parents' lives, with little freedom to venture away into your own, with a little leash on you restricting you from entering into the heart of the world, the full space and gamut of human existence: you don't get to feel what it's like to've spent the day away. All those pleasures are reserved and saved as possibilities for frequent experiencing, in the throes of adulthood. The adult gets to experience freedoms and capabilities that the child fawns at; rightfully. If the child knew of the total capability and breadth of the adult's pleasures, they would feel much less proud of their own. In fact, many children lead less enjoyable lives than their adult counterparts. It is only through their own naivete that they enjoy things despite this. They are very passive and much less empowered to do what they like to do, to go out and take what they like from the world, much less aware of the possibilities of what can be experienced, practically clueless to the particulars of the endless options from art, in all its fine forms, the child is usually far less cultured than the adult, and so they are missing out on the catharses and divine tastes of culture and its fine arts for that very reason. Life is freer and more capable, more packed with chance and sensitivity, in its adult phase. Childhood is like the clueless morning of life where you are still tired—and where the mind wanders while bathing and cleaning and other menial works of preparing things—adulthood is that phase where some of the mess of life has been cleaned up, where we are at least aware of the situation at hand, where we have at least a
chance to figure things out, where we finally break free from all that not-knowing we've waded through, in the many confused years of childhood and teenhood. It may not be the sweetest part of life; but it
is the richest.
This is more of a theory of what
might happen rather than what
has to happen. Let us make a clear distinction of "can" and "will". I can look across a tightrope, with distance below. And assume I am now walking this tightrope. And I say one of two things. "Damn, what a distance—I
can fall down, I
could fall down." On the other hand. "Damn, what a distance—I
will fall down, if I am able to get another metre out on this rope then I
would fall down.
The truth is that things are uncertain. This swings both ways. This means we are not bound to get across, yes—but it
also means that are not bound to fall either. The chance of
both hangs over our shoulders. The future is inside us. It's not somewhere else.
It holds us like a phantom
The touch is like a breeze
It shines its understanding
See the moon smiling
Open on all channels
Ready to receive
And we're not at the mercy
Of your shimmers or spells
Your shimmers or spells
We are of the earth
To her we do return
The future is inside us
It's not somewhere else
It's not somewhere else
It's not somewhere else
(One day at a time)
One day at a time
We call upon the people
People have this power
The numbers don't decide
The system is a lie
The river running dry
The wings of a butterfly
And you may pour us away like soup
Like we're pretty broken flowers
We'll take back what is ours
Take back what is ours
One day at a time
—The Numbers, Radiohead
Who are they do you ask? The evil elites who worship evil things (I'm not talking about self proclaimed Satanists or the like).
Don't ask questions...
The apocalypse is here...
I'd rather die than be a slave
Let us die fighting them, then. I'd rather be a rebel than a slave; and it would be better for one to die as a martyr than a victim. To strive hard against the corrupt will of another… why, we could dedicate our whole
lives to this purpose! Should we remain complacent against the ones who drove us mad and drove our fellow friends to suicide? We would avenge them not by fixing the world totally but by throwing another sea star back into the sea, and by saving whatever we shall.
[…] There's this parable I like about a child saving sea stars on the beach. He throws them back into the ocean, and an adult tells him that he can't save them all. He replies "but I can save this one". […]
—
u/justice4winnie
The nightmare is no less ethereal than the dream; the two stand on equal footing. Fear and hope are of the same essence. The idea that "everything will fall" is of the same nature as "everything will rise".
We are not necessarily doomed; we have only endured much, and feel injured from so much of the pain that has happened. We feel doomed due to feeling threatened by reality. Feeling like we are under duress: like there is a rifle pointed at our heads. But with the right move—we may knock that dangering arm aside, and tackle that attacker to the ground, and brawl until we are both covered in blood, with a newfound freedom at our disposal, on top of our wounds. We can act now, our present is our present, and has a difference essence from our past, and our future remains in possibility: and here is the thing. We do not know
truly what is damned or guaranteed to happen: we only know chances, possibilities; and even those chances only stem from causal understandings of the world. Let us understand every
bit of those causal understandings, see where each effect actually has its theorised causes stem from; let us look into the nature of things: analyse with an exacting critical eye every facet and root and stem of every heaven, every hell; and see where it starts, ends, branches off, dangles down, and reaches outwards, upwards, into the pesky everywhere—and capture this understanding in our minds, as to be able to grasp reality, and apprehend the conception of the actual workings of things: and use rationality to banish nightmares and turn hells into kitchen fires, and find out where the fire extinguisher is, and take back our own place for ourselves. Our very own
mind.[/I]
Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time.
The mind is its own place, and in it self
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
—Paradise Lost
