T
TheVanishingPoint
Member
- May 20, 2025
- 10
Many believe there's a "survival instinct," something ancient that keeps us clinging to life even when everything inside us is screaming to leave. But I believe that's a lie — or rather, an ideological oversimplification.
When someone is determined to die, it's not instinct that stops them.
It's everything else.
It's people, systems, roles, events, words, distractions — forces from outside that serve a very specific function:
to divert, delay, dilute, confuse, and ultimately erase the goal.
An entire society activates to keep you alive, but not out of love —
because your self-determination is terrifying.
Because your gesture threatens the entire foundation of a system built on the dogma that life is sacred and obligatory.
And so they appear, all at once:
– New relationships
– Useless projects
– Therapeutic paths that don't heal but monitor
– Emotional distractions that don't speak to your truth, only to their fear
It's not a survival instinct that holds you back.
It's a complex, cultural containment system, built by those afraid of your act,
who have learned exactly how to stop you without seeming like jailers.
Someone suicidal often doesn't know how to sustain the goal over time.
Someone pro-life, on the other hand, knows exactly how to pull you away from that goal.
And that's how they win.
So it ends with you, let's say, standing on the eleventh floor. You look down.
And suddenly, a fear grips you — and you don't even know where it comes from.
You call it a "survival instinct."
But a samurai doesn't feel that fear even with the blade at his throat,
because in his society, those mechanisms don't exist,
and in fact, what he is doing is honored, legitimized, and approved.
Here lies the difference: it's not instinct holding you back — it's the world refusing to let you go.
And that's exactly why impulsive suicides often succeed:
because the emotion of the moment overrides all these social mechanisms.
But that window is short.
If the act isn't completed within it, the system reorganizes, reclaims you,
and stitches its cage back onto you with the thread of illusion.
And that's also why romantic suicides so often succeed:
because they exist in a shared emotional peak,
where society hasn't had time to intervene,
and where the intensity between two people momentarily annihilates all containment systems.
Two minds united in the same disobedience,
before the world has time to tell them they must stay.
When someone is determined to die, it's not instinct that stops them.
It's everything else.
It's people, systems, roles, events, words, distractions — forces from outside that serve a very specific function:
to divert, delay, dilute, confuse, and ultimately erase the goal.
An entire society activates to keep you alive, but not out of love —
because your self-determination is terrifying.
Because your gesture threatens the entire foundation of a system built on the dogma that life is sacred and obligatory.
And so they appear, all at once:
– New relationships
– Useless projects
– Therapeutic paths that don't heal but monitor
– Emotional distractions that don't speak to your truth, only to their fear
It's not a survival instinct that holds you back.
It's a complex, cultural containment system, built by those afraid of your act,
who have learned exactly how to stop you without seeming like jailers.
Someone suicidal often doesn't know how to sustain the goal over time.
Someone pro-life, on the other hand, knows exactly how to pull you away from that goal.
And that's how they win.
So it ends with you, let's say, standing on the eleventh floor. You look down.
And suddenly, a fear grips you — and you don't even know where it comes from.
You call it a "survival instinct."
But a samurai doesn't feel that fear even with the blade at his throat,
because in his society, those mechanisms don't exist,
and in fact, what he is doing is honored, legitimized, and approved.
Here lies the difference: it's not instinct holding you back — it's the world refusing to let you go.
And that's exactly why impulsive suicides often succeed:
because the emotion of the moment overrides all these social mechanisms.
But that window is short.
If the act isn't completed within it, the system reorganizes, reclaims you,
and stitches its cage back onto you with the thread of illusion.
And that's also why romantic suicides so often succeed:
because they exist in a shared emotional peak,
where society hasn't had time to intervene,
and where the intensity between two people momentarily annihilates all containment systems.
Two minds united in the same disobedience,
before the world has time to tell them they must stay.