The anxiety of that weight would be worse than the end itself, so she chooses this path.

Not actively, she doesn't commit suicide, but passively, she repeatedly puts herself in a situation where violent outcome is a probable result.

And when it finally happens, there's almost relief in the inevitability.

It was always the possible ending.

Now at least she doesn't have to wait for it anymore.

Dostoevsky is working with a concept that psychology would only formalize decades later,

repetition compulsion.

Traumatized people tend to recreate patterns that hurt them because at least their known patterns.

Family abuse is terrifying but predictable.

Healthy love is comforting but alien.

And the fear of the unknown can be greater than the fear of familiar pain.

Some people were so completely destroyed by the world that self-destruction is the only coherent narrative they can accept,

and the society that destroyed them then condemns their inability to be saved as personal moral failure.

We gave her so many chances. He just didn't want help. If she really wanted to change,

she would. As if individual will were sufficient against years of traumatic conditioning.

After what happened, Mishkin finds Rogosin sitting beside Nastasia's

body. The scene is one of the most disturbing in world literature. Rogosin is in a state of

dissociative shock, oscillating between lucidity and feverish delirium. Mishkin could scream, call

authorities, react with horror and moral condemnation.

It would be the expected, socially appropriate response.

Instead, he lies down beside Ragojin.

He holds his hand.

...