A few days ago, I considered killing myself because I did not get an interview at the Southern District of New York’s US Attorney’s Office.
More generally, I considered killing myself because here in law school, my mind had gotten so warped that I could not think of one thing that could possibly give me a subjective feeling of joy other than achievement—of doing better than those around me. Even social events were filtered through this lens of achievement: was I the funniest at the table? Was I charming? Did everyone think highly of me and like me? I could think of nothing, absolutely nothing, which would be fun other than achieving.
So I ran away. I left class during one of the breaks and went up to New York, where I have some friends. I needed to reconnect to something positive that would remain even if I got bad grades and no internships. It didn’t take long to start to calm down. I met with some of my friends and talked about this and that. I’m sure I am still filtering things through the judgmental achievement lens, but I feel calmer now.
Anyway I think about death a lot. It’s liberating to think of all times you didn’t kill yourself. You can imagine that you did, and that all this is just bonus. So, I can think: I died last week. I am now free to do whatever I want—to take risks in service of living the life I want.
