My friend chose to end her life in Zurich on October 24, 2024

Press "PandaGuides" above to follow us!

On the morning of October 24, 2024, at 10:00 AM, my friend Zheng Feng, whom I affectionately called Elizabath, chose to end her life in Zurich. This news hit me like a thunderbolt, leaving me grappling with a whirlwind of emotions and memories.

The name "Zheng Feng" rarely surfaced in our conversations. Instead, she introduced herself with an immaculate English name, Elizabath, which she humorously shortened to "Shabai" in Chinese, a name that whimsically translates to a more innocent and naïve term. When she introduced herself, she wore her name with pride, and I found myself bemused at how someone could deliberately choose initials that spelled "SB." Looking back now, I realize how typical that was of her and me - always a little unconventional.

Shabai was a fiercely independent spirit, someone who insisted on living life on her own terms. She was vocal about her opinions, unafraid to challenge those who disagreed with her while showering praise on those who shared her views. Her confidence was infectious, and her articulate way of expressing herself made her a captivating conversationalist. We were kindred spirits in some ways - both fiery, passionate, and impulsive - but our interests diverged significantly, and perhaps we both had a touch of "princess syndrome." I would jokingly claim that she was more affected, while she would argue that I was the one with the most severe case. In truth, we were probably two peas in a pod.

I remember one particular afternoon when she enthusiastically invited me to her studio for a cozy tea session. Having heard about a fallout she had with a mutual friend, I was eager to dive into the drama. However, instead of gossip, I found myself engrossed in a four-hour monologue about cosmetic procedures and life plans. I was desperate to steer the conversation toward her recent spat but felt too shy to interrupt. Just when I thought I might get a chance, she shifted the focus onto me, listing my supposed ten sins of not being “delicate” enough.

In the end, I can’t even recall who won our debate, but I do know that neither of us was ever able to convince the other. Our conversations would often swing between trivial matters and intense discussions, leading to passionate disagreements rather than pleasant exchanges. As time passed, we found ourselves drifting apart, although the bond we shared was tinged with a unique understanding of each other’s essence.

Shabai was diagnosed with lupus at a young age but never acted like a typical patient. Instead, she lived life to the fullest, indulging in both the highs and lows. I knew she genuinely savored these moments, whether she was tipsy or completely inebriated, enjoying a kind of solitude that was both liberating and reflective. For two decades, lupus was her silent companion, flaring up intermittently. At the beginning of this year, she had planned a birthday trip to South Korea. Just before she left, her lupus nephritis flared up, but she brushed aside the doctor’s advice and went anyway, accompanied by her father. Unfortunately, the trip took a toll on her health, and she returned to Shanghai in a much worse state.

When I visited her during this difficult time, she was in despair, not so much about the physical pain, but rather her appearance. “How can I look so ugly and swollen?” she lamented. “I went from 95 pounds to 120 pounds in no time!”

About five years prior, she had made a resolute decision: she would not allow herself to die in an ungraceful manner. When the moment came, she wanted to travel to Switzerland and end her life beautifully, sparing herself from pain and retaining her sense of dignity. However, in March of this year, she faced a panic as she realized she might not be able to execute her plan. In her desperation, she contemplated various means to end her life, yet each time, her fear of being unattractive held her back.

Throughout this journey, her father remained her steadfast supporter. This 80-year-old man was proud of his daughter, cherishing every little achievement she made. He arranged for caregivers to accompany her, ensuring she received her treatments diligently.

Things began to change during one of her dialysis sessions at a local hospital. Shabai, ever the candid and open-hearted individual, found warmth and kindness in her surroundings. She was pleasantly surprised by the hospital's advanced equipment and the professionalism of the staff. Her spirits lifted, she began teaching English to the caregivers, grooming her father, and even giving haircuts to the attendants.

As her health began to stabilize thanks to the dialysis, I mistakenly thought she would continue to fight against her illness like so many others. After all, who would willingly choose to leave life behind? Not to mention the myriad obstacles she would have to overcome to reach Switzerland.

Yet, true to her character, Shabai refused to compromise. She dove back into her pursuit of beauty and life’s pleasures, indulging in gourmet foods, Michelin-star dining, flowers, yoga, dancing, cooking, plating, city walks, and even learning Spanish. She would adorn herself as if going out on a date, even during hospital visits.

Despite the new zest for life, she did not abandon her plan for euthanasia. On August 8, she received the green light for her procedure in Switzerland. By August 19, she had set a date for her death and expressed a desire to donate her organs, only to learn shortly after that her medication would prevent her from doing so. On September 8, she began sorting through her books and belongings, preparing for her departure.

September 23 marked the approval of her Swiss visa, and on September 26, she had a heated argument with her mother, which culminated in her recording a video denouncing her. On October 12, she set off for Switzerland, accompanied by her father, who lovingly saw her off just as he had welcomed her into the world.

Shabai planned to undergo four more dialysis sessions in Switzerland, making the most of her time there with her father before bidding farewell to this life.

And then, on October 24, as I sat down to write this article, she chose to end her life in Zurich. How do I possibly wrap up these thoughts, especially when I struggle to evaluate the life Shabai lived? Ironically, I realize I have no right to judge her choices.

So, in an attempt to honor her memory, I will say this: Shabai, you were a pure, kind-hearted, and straightforward girl. Despite the passage of time, you maintained a childlike innocence and courage. You stayed true to your choices, and I hope that good fortune accompanies you on your journey.

Source: WeChat Official Account of 王耳嘚

Editor's Picks