It’s 2nd September 2008 today. Another historic date in Malaysia history. This very date, in 1998, Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim was fired by our former Prime Minister, Tun Dr. Mahathir Mohamad. Well, a lot of you may recognize this date as a date that starts all sort of ‘reformation’ in Malaysia…but this date have another meaning for me. 24 years ago, my mother gave birth to a tiny and gooey baby girl, which happened to be me. Haha. That’s right, today is my birthday, and so today’s post is dedicated to my parents for bringing me to this world and raising me with unconditional love and care. Thank you mom and dad. You guys are the pillar of my life.
Hmm, enough of the birthday stuff, today I want to talk about suicide.
Okay, okay, I know it’s not auspicious to talk about death or suicide on my birthday, but I’m going to do it anyway, because my best friend who obviously have a sick sense of humour emailed me the picture below a week ago when I happened to complain to her that I am pretty depressed with work and all.
With a friend like this, who need an enemy? Well, I’m just kidding about that. Actually her emailed cheered me up, not because I finally found an ultimate solution to my mundane problems, but because she actually reminded me that any life is better than one death. And no matter what, killing oneself is not a solution to any problems. She, of all people, knew very well that I appreciate life, as I practically grow up as sickly, which means hospital in and out for me. I know what it’s like to struggle to stay alive. Being sick makes me appreciate life better, knowing that life is very short, and one should live life to the fullest, and never resort to suicide no matter what happened.
A few years ago, when I was a rookie journalist, I was told to do a coverage for a suicide case. It was a hell of a case. I had thought the creeps up there would give me a milder case to cover for since it’s my first week at work. Boy, I was dead wrong. I was really really wrong. Work as a journalist is not always pretty and sunny as the news journalists needs to cover for are not always good news.
That particular case involved a nasty suicide case where a young girl jumped down from a building to end her life because she was dumped by her boyfriend. She was around 17 years old, if I recalled it correctly. When I say nasty, I really meant it. It was really bloody and I was traumatized for a few days after covering for the news .
I arrived at the scene before the police and the ambulance arrived, and so I managed to catch a glimpse of her dead body as the spectators at the scene busied themselves trying to cover her dead body with some newspaper that they obviously bought from the nearby 7-11 store. As my accompanying partner, a photographer clicked on his SLR camera to get shots of the girl’s dead body, I stood there and watched her dead body and the people around me. I was speechless, seeing the scene before me.
It was not a pretty scene, and her dead body did not look as serene and peaceful as other dead bodies that died out of sickness or accidents that I’m used to seeing in funerals that I attended. Her face seems to contorted in pain.
The dead body of the girl was pooled with blood that originates from many part of her body, mainly her head. Her hand and legs seems to be broken, as the position of her hand and legs was quite awkward. The faint scent of blood resembling the smell of iron pollute the air around her.Her skull was broken and punctured, and as I stepped forward a little to get a better view of her dead body, I saw some whitish little meat splattered around her head. I tried to compute on what the whitish thing could be. After a while, my eyes went round as I realized that the whitish meat around her head was actually her brain oozing out of her punctured skull! Almost immediately I felt sick and the urge to throw up overcome me. I rushed away from the scene and threw up the content of my dinner down the drain nearby.
The photographer who was accompanying me at the moment happened to finished snapping the pictures, and walked to me as he handed me some tissue to wipe my mouth with as he pat my back to comfort me. He was sympathizing me for my condition. I still remembered what he said to me. His exact words was ” Don’t worry. This is your first case. You’ll get used to these kind of things.”
He was wrong. I NEVER got used to seeing dead bodies of people who committed suicide though I covered the cases after that much better than my first suicide coverage. I stopped vomiting at the sights of dead bodies a few case after that, but I never got used to the feeling that I got each time I handled those case similar to this. I felt as if there’s a certain existence that emit from the dead body.
Usually it felt really cold and I’ll get goosebumps. It’s as if the existence was a piece of glass that has been shattered, and tried as hard as it could to get back together. I could sense confusion and excruciating pain coming from that ‘existence’. I can’t explain how I felt when I sense all these, as it’s an indescribable feeling. I’m used to ‘seeing’ things in funeral and during Hungry Ghost festival, but nothing beats the things that I sense when I see such dead body. It’s as if the dead is reaching out for your help, and yet, there’s nothing you can do to ease their suffering.
I can never understand why someone could be so daring to commit suicide. To me, suicide is not only a form of murder, but it’s also an unredeemable sin in the eyes of most religion that I know of. I always believed that we’re born into this world for a reason, and with this reason alone, we should appreciate our life. And no matter what it is that cause you to feel suicidal, there’s always a way out.
As an example, in Malaysia, if you feel that the whole world has abandoned you, and you simply has lost faith to to keep on living, there’s always someone who is willing to offer you some comfort and advice. They are the BEFRIENDERS.
The befrienders will listen to whatever your problem is, and ensure anonymity and confidentiality of your problems. And whatever your problems is, they will treat your stories with respect. So whatever problem that caused you to feel like ending your life, please don’t. There are people out there who are willing to listen to you. So before you people who are feeling suicidal jumps off a building or gulped down a bottle of sleeping pill, call the Befrienders first. They might be able to pull you out of your problems.
Cleffairy: Life is precious. Live life to the fullest.