Till death do us part
I want to go out with a bang. I want a supply of heroin that will show me pure ecstasy, ramping up until I slowly but surely reach my place of eternal rest.
And I plan to do it when I’m 80 years old.
Is this a suicide note?
No. It’s an argument for fixing an end date to your life. While technologists continue to work towards anti-aging and eternal life, I think we ought to be moving in the opposite direction. Looking to maintain our end date and ramp up the quality of our lives throughout.
What’s the benefit of a fixed end date?
Most middle-aged people I know worry about eventually becoming a burden to their families. They don’t know how long they will last, what complications they will face, and what they will want or need to live. That unknown leaves people working longer and harder later into their lives. Gone are the days of retirement at 60 with a pension that takes care of your every need till you die. Today, we supposedly have control of our careers, with tours of duty at different places. What that means in practice is taking responsibility for your own savings and your own retirement. Taking on the possibility of a long life and the daunting amounts of money that may be needed to support it.
By deciding on an end date, you set a ceiling to your needs. You can run the numbers on your cost of living, the cost of health care. You can set a price on your time. No more working to God knows what end. Your life may end earlier, but if it doesn’t, you know what you are working to support personally. That dollar amount is incredibly freeing – you can step out of the rat race and think more critically about your use of your time to find purpose, joy, and fulfillment.
So it’s a financial decision?
Not just a financial decision. If it were, I could just move to Norway and take advantage of a more friendly public pension and healthcare system. It’s also a quality of life decision. First, it’s possible to become a burden on a loved one beyond financial considerations. Emotionally. In terms of time. I want to avoid becoming that burden as best I can.
Also, the life of any human is a roller coaster of emotions, riding highs and lows on a daily, if not hourly, basis. But when you separate the signal from the noise, you have a general sense of the quality of your life. Is your quality of life generally good? Do you have your mental capacities? Your physical capacities? Do you wake up excited about each day or is it more of a sigh of relief that you’ve lived another day? I want to get out before I’m over the hill as, from what I’ve seen, the decline can come fast and hit you hard when it comes.
Why 80?
Yes, this is arbitrary. There are a few factors that drive this choice for me:
I am confident in my ability to keep my physical and mental capacities till then. I expect to still be playing on the tennis court, reading, and maybe even writing.
I will likely see my kids grow up and any potential grandkids make it to adulthood. That feels like a fulfilling endpoint.
Maybe I could hang on another 5, 10, maybe even 15 years at full capacity. But it’s a risk assessment that I don’t feel good about. I’d rather end earlier, know I’ll have it all, and have less money to earn to live a full life.
What about all that you’ll be missing out on?
Sure, I’ll be missing out on things. But no matter when you die, there will always be more to see. More to do. When is enough enough? The craving for more often leaves us living less.
Why heroin?
I’m very keen to experience truly euphoric drugs but am too scared of the potential consequences. The ending of life is the only time I can completely ignore those consequences so why not?
What would change my mind?
There are two things I could see changing my mind at this stage.
One, if the quality of healthcare or medicine changes and I feel like 80 may be too early, I might decide to extend my end date. Not from the lens of just living longer, but in terms of my ability to live a full mental and physical life longer.
Two, if either one of my parents is still alive, I would wait. Parents never deserve to lose their children, and I wouldn’t want to do that to them willingly. (Of course, they’d be over 100, so I’m not holding my breath on that one).
Aren’t you forgetting someone?
My wife thinks I’m very strange already, and she married me anyways. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m joking about this.
I have 47 years to convince her I’m not so we can go out like this epic ending from The Notebook.