When they asked some old Roman philosopher or other how he wanted to die, he said he would open his veins in a warm bath. I thought it would be easy, lying in the tub and seeing the redness flower from my wrists, flush after flush through the clear water, till I sank to sleep under a surface gaudy of poppies.But when it came right down to it, the sink of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.
In this passage, the speaker reflects on an imagined death, inspired by a Roman philosopher's choice of dying in a bath by opening his veins. The imagery of blood blooming in the water evokes a sense of beauty intertwined with tragedy. Initially, the thought seems appealing, as if it would offer a serene escape. However, when faced with the reality of self-harm, the speaker feels a deep sense of vulnerability and hesitance.
The startling contrast between the romantic notion of dying and the raw fear of actually doing it underscores a deeper struggle. The speaker realizes that the pain or turmoil they wish to escape is not simply tied to their physical body, but lies much deeper within their psyche. This internal battle highlights the complexity of mental anguish, suggesting that true pain often resides beneath the surface, hidden from view.