The Mentality of a Prisoner on Death Row
I read this article about a guy who committed murder (some kids?) in Japan and was thrown in jail for his crime. One day he was just executed without prior notice. The act of the Japanese government elicited a lot of heated discussions. It was said that it's very inhumane (to a murderer??) because he was living everyday not knowning which would be his last. (Note: from the article it sounded like this unannounced execution date thing was not a common practice.)
But here I think, is that how we are all? Walking around everyday not knowing if it will be out last? I guess people don't really consciously think about that everyday. Sometimes I feel like I have the mentality of a person on death row without knowing her execution date. But not for my own mortality. As I have said at the beginning of this blog. I view death in a different light than most. To mean death does not necessarily means a bad thing. When I was an intern at the Coroner's office, the first case I ran into was an old lady committed suicide. I didn't think it was sad. I saw it as the end of her battling with loneliness. Her spouse had passed before her. Perhaps she had no kids. Or maybe she did but they were too busy to visit her. Regardless, it was an end to suffering, in my opinion. I've also seen kids -- babies or toddlers -- died from abuse. Again, that was an end to their suffering, albeit a tragedy. These kids have multiple healed fractures on their bodies at a very young age. Had they lived till twelve or eighteen, it was just more sufferings. In that case, I believe it was almost better that what had happened had happened.
Back to what I was originally saying. I do not sit here and worry too much about my own mortality everyday, though I do occasionally. I worry more about not being able to be with my husband should things happen to me than death itself. They are not the same -- worrying about separation or the impending unknown, you know? I am not afraid of death in that sense. I suppose if I am lying on my death bed and knowing my days are counting, I'd be anxious about what really happens after "death," but as it stands, the idea of passing through this phase doesn't frighten me as much as it does others.
Instead, I worry for the mortality of my husband. Having no family or siblings and not even a lot of close friends, my husband means more than life itself to me. Some might argue that it's not healthy that way, but that's just the way it is. I did not make it this way, nor do I wish it's different. It just is this way. Forty thousand people are killed each year from drunk driving related accidents. That was my biggest fear. Senseless deaths (not the drunk drivers, I couldn't care less about them, but their innocent victims) enrage me, especially that of pre college teens. I can't divulge too much details, but when I was working at the tissue bank, the story of how this teenage girl was killed by two drunk drivers made me cried. It was the first and last time I have cried over a donor. I had always been very detached through out my three and a half years in the dead people field. Had I been assigned to that case, I would have to decline it.
I always worried about my husband being killed by a reckless or drunk driver when I am not with him. The fear of having to deal with the loss of him gets so overwhelming sometimes that the only way I can go on is to tell myself that I have the option of not having to live without him. Meaning that it would be a choice of mine whether to go on on my own in the event that I lost him. I have vocalized that idea to him before. He didn't like it at first. He still doesn't now. He doesn't want me to kill myself if he dies before me. But I argue that that should be my choice, not his. I am not saying that I would necessarily follow through with it, but I like to keep that option open. I will cross that bridge when I come to it, but for the time being, I need to know that I have that option to go on. In a sense it's like a religion to me. Some needs to know that there's a God and afterlife to go on. I need to know I have an option in the event that tragic happens to me (or more like my husband).
I was finally able to get him to the point of discussing the method with me. He asked me how I intend to do it. And I said I was considering shooting myself. (I've always been asking him to take me to a shooting range and teach me how to shoot and to buy a gun. :) But he suggested carbon monoxide poisoning as a better alternative, and I think he might be right. But if and when it comes to that, I'll need a fool-proof method. The last thing I want was to be saved after a failed attempt. (Also seen a woman who finally successfully killed herself on her ELEVENTH try. I think when someone was that determined, they really should respect her wish and stop trying to interfere.) I was actually very happy that my husband was willing to discuss that with me, albeit he strongly disagrees with my plan. Like I have said, that's the kind of open, clinical, and analytical relationship that we have, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
But here I think, is that how we are all? Walking around everyday not knowing if it will be out last? I guess people don't really consciously think about that everyday. Sometimes I feel like I have the mentality of a person on death row without knowing her execution date. But not for my own mortality. As I have said at the beginning of this blog. I view death in a different light than most. To mean death does not necessarily means a bad thing. When I was an intern at the Coroner's office, the first case I ran into was an old lady committed suicide. I didn't think it was sad. I saw it as the end of her battling with loneliness. Her spouse had passed before her. Perhaps she had no kids. Or maybe she did but they were too busy to visit her. Regardless, it was an end to suffering, in my opinion. I've also seen kids -- babies or toddlers -- died from abuse. Again, that was an end to their suffering, albeit a tragedy. These kids have multiple healed fractures on their bodies at a very young age. Had they lived till twelve or eighteen, it was just more sufferings. In that case, I believe it was almost better that what had happened had happened.
Back to what I was originally saying. I do not sit here and worry too much about my own mortality everyday, though I do occasionally. I worry more about not being able to be with my husband should things happen to me than death itself. They are not the same -- worrying about separation or the impending unknown, you know? I am not afraid of death in that sense. I suppose if I am lying on my death bed and knowing my days are counting, I'd be anxious about what really happens after "death," but as it stands, the idea of passing through this phase doesn't frighten me as much as it does others.
Instead, I worry for the mortality of my husband. Having no family or siblings and not even a lot of close friends, my husband means more than life itself to me. Some might argue that it's not healthy that way, but that's just the way it is. I did not make it this way, nor do I wish it's different. It just is this way. Forty thousand people are killed each year from drunk driving related accidents. That was my biggest fear. Senseless deaths (not the drunk drivers, I couldn't care less about them, but their innocent victims) enrage me, especially that of pre college teens. I can't divulge too much details, but when I was working at the tissue bank, the story of how this teenage girl was killed by two drunk drivers made me cried. It was the first and last time I have cried over a donor. I had always been very detached through out my three and a half years in the dead people field. Had I been assigned to that case, I would have to decline it.
I always worried about my husband being killed by a reckless or drunk driver when I am not with him. The fear of having to deal with the loss of him gets so overwhelming sometimes that the only way I can go on is to tell myself that I have the option of not having to live without him. Meaning that it would be a choice of mine whether to go on on my own in the event that I lost him. I have vocalized that idea to him before. He didn't like it at first. He still doesn't now. He doesn't want me to kill myself if he dies before me. But I argue that that should be my choice, not his. I am not saying that I would necessarily follow through with it, but I like to keep that option open. I will cross that bridge when I come to it, but for the time being, I need to know that I have that option to go on. In a sense it's like a religion to me. Some needs to know that there's a God and afterlife to go on. I need to know I have an option in the event that tragic happens to me (or more like my husband).
I was finally able to get him to the point of discussing the method with me. He asked me how I intend to do it. And I said I was considering shooting myself. (I've always been asking him to take me to a shooting range and teach me how to shoot and to buy a gun. :) But he suggested carbon monoxide poisoning as a better alternative, and I think he might be right. But if and when it comes to that, I'll need a fool-proof method. The last thing I want was to be saved after a failed attempt. (Also seen a woman who finally successfully killed herself on her ELEVENTH try. I think when someone was that determined, they really should respect her wish and stop trying to interfere.) I was actually very happy that my husband was willing to discuss that with me, albeit he strongly disagrees with my plan. Like I have said, that's the kind of open, clinical, and analytical relationship that we have, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
posted by cahalan @ 11:07
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