If my reading of its genesis story is correct, How Not to Kill Yourself: A Survival Guide for Imaginative Pessimists, by Set Sytes (Microcosm Publishing, $9.95, 126 pp.), actually started out as a modest ebook posted on the author’s website. Those who read it were often inspired to share it, and one of them was therapist and author Faith G. Harper, who promoted it fanatically to the folks at Microcosm Publishing (but not before printing out a hard copy ripped from the site to share with her clients, one of whom walked off with it). The folks at Microcosm made the entirely retro suggestion that it be re-released as a print zine. When that was also a success, they asked author Set Sytes to expand it into a book. That persistent, “little engine that could” quality is worth recalling when you dig in and realize you’re reading a suicide prevention manual.
Is it odd to be discussing this in a political forum? I sure hope not. The most cursory glance at statistics on suicide in the US show it on the rise, with white men overwhelmingly at risk. According to the National Center for Health Statistics, over the past 15 years, the total suicide rate has increased 24% from 10.5 to 13.0 per 100,000; another group’s statistics show an additional increase of 0.5% in just the past year.
Sytes is white and male but English, and he writes with disarmingly low-key humor about this difficult topic. He’s up front with his disgust at the namby-pamby optimism on display in most self-help books, but will grudgingly admit that this book’s intent is to help you help yourself as well. Assuming you’ve felt the urge but are unlikely to act on it, he’s frank about how terrible that can feel: “The comprehension that you will have to stick it out until the final whistle blows can be overwhelming, exhausting in its misery.” (20-1) He’s mercifully quick to add, “You’re not alone.”
The advice here is nothing groundbreaking; it ranges from basic self-care to using productivity, music, support, and daily structure to keep afloat when the world is trying to break your back. Where most self-help lit tends toward glossy truisms, though, Sytes has a grittier edge (the advice to watch horror movies, especially if you’re not a fan of the genre, to prompt a survival instinct was new to me). And the book is peppered with primitive, crayon-y illustrations of little alien blobs with captions that cut to the heart of what suicidal ideation can feel like (one frowny little cloud simply says, “I am an amorphous blob. Please don’t talk to me.”).
By discussing suicidality in terms of a range of traits including precocity, creativity, a penchant for escapism and others, Sytes ensures that readers feel seen, a critical departure from books that merely offer suggestions (or, far worse, platitudes). “Imaginative pessimists” as defined here don’t seem so different from the “intelligent optimists” that Ode magazine targets; both see the world clearly and are solution oriented. Imaginative pessimists just need to fall down the basement steps a few times before they get things sorted.
If events of the past year or so have at times left you feeling hyper-aware of the futility of trying; if social media and its unhealthy screaminess have folded you in on yourself so tightly you feel close to bursting; if you’re doing everything right but still occasionally find yourself frozen in dread at the thought of getting up in the morning (raises hand Check, check, and check.); this book will help you. It will help you survive, preserve your sense of humor, and maybe — though let’s not get ahead of ourselves — regain some enjoyment of life. If anyone you know is hurting in this way, it will help you be a better friend and ally. Read it. Share it (legally). And remember that you matter.
Heather Seggel is a writer based in Mendocino County, Calif., but sadly not the pretty coastal part. Email heatherlseggel@gmail.com.
From The Progressive Populist, March 15, 2018
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