The Zoraya ter Beek story

YesSymptoms of anxiety, depression, and substance dependence have devastated my life for 50 years. Suicide? Sure, it crossed my mind, but I never set up camp. She did it in Zoraya ter Beek’s psyche: she will die next month. Let’s talk about that.

fast heads above: Some may find our topic troubling, even triggering. If you are one of them, feel free to close the article. Maybe bringing light to our darkest days would be a good option.

Now that medically assisted suicide for people with severe and persistent mental and emotional health problems (“psychiatric euthanasia”) is legal in several countries, it is not unusual to come across an end-of-life story.

Introduction

Let’s set the table a little before we start…

We will use the term “assisted dying” in our discussion. Also used are medically assisted dying, medically assisted dying, medically assisted suicide, medical assistance in dying (MAID), and in this case, psychiatric euthanasia. Don’t miss the forest for the trees, okay?

Since we are discussing a case that takes place in the Netherlands, you may want to read the Information on euthanasia from the Netherlands governmentjust like him Law on termination of life on request and assisted suicide (review procedures).

Finally, there are two articles here on Chipur that address assisted dying, including ethics and opinions: Assisted dying – psychiatric euthanasia: Do you agree with this? and Assisted death – psychiatric euthanasia: is that okay with you? Part 2. Both are worth reading.

The story of Zoraya ter Beek

April 1, The free press published ‘I am 28 years old and I am scheduled to die in May’, written by Rupa Subramanya. The piece is based on an interview with Zoraya ter Beek.

You may notice that I didn’t include a picture of her. The fact is that I don’t have the rights. But even if she did, and even if she showed up, she wouldn’t be here. It’s about discretion and respect.

Who is she?

Zoraya ter Beek, 28, lives in a small Dutch town with her boyfriend and two cats.

There was a time when she wanted to be a psychiatrist; However, the symptoms and manifestations of her major depressive disorder, her autism spectrum disorder, and her borderline personality disorder prevented her from finishing school or even starting a career.

In short: she is tired of living.

The shocking statement from his psychiatrist

For all we know, Ms. ter Beek would have sought assisted suicide anyway; However, a shocking statement from her psychiatrist pushed her over the edge.

After noting that everything had been tried, the doctor said, “…there is nothing more we can do for you. “It will never get better.” (I’m still shaking my head.)

It was then that ter Beek decided to die and stated: “I was always very clear that if it doesn’t improve, I can’t continue with this.”

Your “tree of life”

Interesting: ter Beek has a “tree of life” tattoo on his upper left arm, but “upside down.”

She explained: “Where the tree of life represents growth and new beginnings, my tree is the complete opposite. It’s losing its leaves, it’s dying. And once the tree died, the bird flew away. “I don’t see it as my soul leaving, but rather as me being released from life.”

Death

Ter Beek has decided to die on the sofa in his living room. She has asked her boyfriend to accompany her until the end.

Ter Beek detailed: “The doctor really takes her time. It’s not like they come in and say: please go to bed! Most of the time it is first a cup of coffee to calm the nerves and create a soft atmosphere. Then she asks me if I’m ready. I’ll take my place on the couch. Once again he will ask me if I am sure, start the process and wish me a good trip. Or, in my case, a good nap, because I hate it when people say, “Have a good trip.” I do not go anywhere.”

According to ter Beek, your doctor will give you a sedative, followed by a drug that will stop your heart.

Protocol

So ter Beek gave insight into the protocol for ending his life. To learn, let’s review the protocol for an unassisted death case in Vermont.

Five medications are used, including diazepam, digoxin, morphine sulfate, amitriptyline, and phenobarbital. Death usually occurs within 90 to 120 minutes, but may take longer.

When a patient is ready, he or a family member or friend mixes the medications with water or apple juice. It is essential to drink the entire mixture within two minutes for maximum effectiveness.

After a couple of minutes, the patient loses consciousness: only the heart and lungs continue to function. Then comes the wait for the end.

postmortem

Let’s go back to Mrs. ter Beek. When she dies, a euthanasia review committee will evaluate her death to ensure the doctor met “due diligence criteria.” If there are no complications, the Dutch government will declare Zoraya ter Beek’s life legally over.

There will be no funeral, as ter Beek doesn’t have much family and doesn’t think his friends will want to go. Instead, his boyfriend will scatter his ashes in “a nice place in the woods” that they have chosen together.

Ter Beek sent a text message to the interviewer: “I didn’t want to burden my partner with the task of keeping the grave tidy. We haven’t chosen an urn yet, but that will be my new home! She added an urn emoji after “home.”

Ter Beek concluded by saying: “I am a little afraid of dying, because it is the most unknown thing. We don’t really know what’s next, or is there nothing? “That’s the scary part.”

What to do with all this

Incredibly intense stuff, right? The complexity and emotional roller coaster feel are consistent with what I experienced writing about Shanti De Corte’s assisted suicide.

Everything related to these cases fascinates me.

my two cents

Citing cultural and spiritual beliefs and practices, an adult has the right to end his or her life.

I’ll go out on a limb and say that very few people would disagree with someone calling it quits in the face of a terminal medical condition.

But when it comes to emotional and mental disorders (which are medical conditions), things get complicated. And that’s because they are not terminals. Now, I suppose you could argue that they are; however, the only supporting factor would be, ironically, the potential for suicide.

Regarding the case of Mrs. ter Beek, everything that accompanies major depressive disorder, autism spectrum disorder and borderline personality disorder would for many be a burden that breaks the will to live.

Who could blame her or judge her for wanting out?

complex

My hang-ups in any case of psychiatrically assisted dying are the possible presence of compromised thoughts (e.g., cognitive distortions), judgment and impulse control, as well as negative environmental influences.

Yes, I know that ter Beek was evaluated and approved by medical and psychological professionals. But when the most important player says: “…there is nothing more we can do for you. “It will never get better.” I don’t feel very good about that.

And there’s something else that has me scratching my head. I may have missed it, but I don’t remember reading anything about psychotherapy. Was she participating? Was she the right type? Did she have quality doctors?

Finally, and I say this with all due respect, is there – will there be – any contagion factor involved?

Well, look, regardless of my two cents, in a few weeks Mrs. ter Beek will fulfill the desires of your mind and soul. Others will follow her example in the coming days.

What are your thoughts and feelings?

I would give anything to talk to her.

Then Zoraya ter Beek will die next month. His choice, his right. And the doctor who facilitates his death will be protected by law.

That makes me sad. In fact, I check every day if he has decided to live. Is that selfish?

Pure countertransference here: I would give anything to chat with her and, yes, see if I can change her mind.

Hey, if you or a loved one is in immediate danger of suffering any form of self-harm, call 988 in the US and here’s a list of international suicide hotlines.

The article of The free press: “I am 28 years old and my death is scheduled for May.”

Those inspirational and informative articles from Chipur: many of them…

After a decades-long battle with panic, generalized anxiety, mood swings and alcohol dependence; Bill finally found his passion and life’s work: lending a hand to those in the same boat. At age 49 he entered graduate school and earned his counseling credentials. And he continues his service through Chipur and other projects.