Suicide
Suicide
Buk put it best: "Something is in me that I can't control. I can never drive my car over a bridge without thinking of suicide. I can never look at a lake or an ocean without thinking of suicide. I mean, I won't linger on it all. But it will flash on me: SUICIDE. Like a light going on. In the darkness. That there is an out helps you stay in. Get it? Otherwise, it could only be madness. And that's no fun, buddy. And whenever I get off a good poem, that's another crutch to keep me going. I don't know about other people, but when I bend over to put on my shoes in the morning, I think, Christ- oh-mighty, now what? I'm screwed by life, we don't get along. I have to take little bites out of it, not the whole thing. It's like swallowing buckets of shit. I am never surprised that the madhouses and jails are full and that the streets are full. I like to look at my cats, they chill me out. They make me feel all right. Don't put me in a roomful of humans, though. Don't ever do that. Especially on a holiday. Don't do it."
Good description of it. It's there, and I could, but I don't want to.
There's some unearthly draw that requires you to think about it sometimes... I like to pass it off as that same annoying voice that says "OMFG!! A BLACK PERSON!! DON'T SAY SOMETHING RACIST" DON'T SAY SOMETHING RACIST!" It's equally automatic. And equally painful to realise you have. What if I don't hand that KCN vial over but just shove it in my mouth? But maybe this is there for a reason, to keep you some kind of sane.
Oh, it's not that bad. I've come to the conclusion that everyone hears the voice; the trick is in how you cope with it.
I used to cope via the suicide = hell trick, now I cope with the "oblivion" trick. You still need something before you get scurvy.
What do you mean before I get it?
Clarifying again, it's not a suicide note! It's just the scary thought that if I did become suicidal, I'd undoubtedly be very successful at it.
Ah, of course. I have just been paid today, ironic considering it's buy nothing day. And I of course didn't actually buy anything. Though once I can afford to drink again, I'll be fine.
Yeah, my rapid weight loss is entirely due to the fact that I used to put in 2-3 stiff and proper drinking sessions in each week. Now it's about 1 per month. Though if I can get some more white sugar these egg-free cookies are probably going to be the death of me, it just doesn't work with whatever this brown stuff is.
Seriously, these cookies are awesome. But you really have to underdo them, but it's one idiot proof way of basically making caramel.
They're something that needs experimentation to see what ratio of the sugars you prefer. Too much brown sends them more in the direction of a brandy snap, too much white leaves them pale and uninteresting but far softer and smoother. But what the hell do I know about cooking? I just make shit up as I go.
Mucho Hugs to thee! But I have that voice a lot. Example: Ooh. Red Light. I really want to see what happens if I just keep going instead of the brake. Would it hurt? Maybe. But how bad? LET'S TRY!...Wait. No. If I do that maybe someone else would get hurt. And what if I stay alive and just end up crippled. Shit...then I'd really end up wanting to die. -siiigh- Nevermind then.
That's the interesting thing, if you could do something bad to yourself without affecting others then that would be a completely different decision to make, wouldn't it? So the idea that it's fine to blow yourself apart on drugs because it's "just you" is on shaky ground because how do you know that you're just going to affect yourself? We interact, we have contacts, we all exert influence on someone else whether we like it or not. Now, I wouldn't go as far as to say not topping yourself is part of the implicit social contract, but... well I suppose I am trying to imply that.
Exactly. I have many dear family members and friends that would probably resurrect me then kill me a good couple of times from probably committing suicide in the first place. And mostly, I'm too curious of a person to commit suicide. Like...WHAT IF SOMEONE COMES TO MY DOOR WITH A BASKET OF PAINTBRUSHES!? I'm going to miss that! Or that random college student running around campus in a banana suit. I'm going to miss that too. DARN! I'm too easily entertained by the small things that killing myself doesn't seem quite worth it.
For what it's worth, the thing that pulled me back from the edge time and time again was the knowlege of what my suicide would do to my mother. She died a few years back so nowadays it's the knowlege of what it would do to my wife and son. If it were just me.... but I can't be that selfish.