This is why people take drugs and drink isn’t it, to forget?
I understand the need for escape. I want to run, God I just want to run away.
I wonder how much more gray hair I’ll have by the years end?
Sw was here for a little bit today. We had a good time laughing about nothing at all.
With no TV or radio I’m going to lose my mind.
I’ve lost a heck of a lot of time and my level of confusion is high. I hate it when I can’t think. I can’t think.
I want to sit in the back of the closet, close my eyes and cease to exist.
I saw a guy with my shirt on today, the one that says ‘I have multiple personalities and none of them like you’. I didn’t think it was funny, not today anyway. Maybe it’s only funny when I wear it here at home. I never wear it in public.
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Tag Archive for 'suicide'
Disclaimer: My comments here are about the movie and my experiences. In this entry I don’t provide information on what a suicidal person should do or what friends should do for a person who is suicidal. All I discuss is the movie and how it relates to particular experiences I had. I can’t possibly cover all my bases on the subject of suicide so I’m sticking to a very narrow discussion.
The waiting, the eventuality of it must be ……………. I don’t know what words to put there. The personal responsibility for saving the suicidal person has to be heavy.
I felt personally responsible for keeping my mother alive. She talked a lot about killing herself, especially when I was younger. As I got older it was much less about killing herself and more about abandoning us kids. She said she was tired of me and my sister fighting, tired of everything. She said one day she was going to go in the restroom and kill herself. I used to cut out little hearts from construction paper and tape them to the walls in her shower. I hoped she’s see them and know I loved her and it would change her mind, give her a reason to live. It went like that again and again. Threats of suicide, paper hearts, handmade cards, a life saved, a child robbed.
In the hospital there was a real art therapist who talked to us about establishing our own world. I kind of had a hard time hearing her because as she spoke I sat at her table filled with markers, paints, crayons, clay and paper. I nearly drooled.
Above my over joyed heartbeat I heard her explain that in our new world we’d decide who can and can’t come to our world. We’d decide if people worked, how they lived, how they got their food and so on. Everything was up to us. When I heard that part assignment I declined to participate. I just messed with clay while others drew a world they felt they could be happy in. Not surprisingly many removed the so-called good idea of capitalism. I found that interesting.
I’m ridiculously sad but I’m not sure why. My mood is kind of pissy. I don’t want to talk to anyone over the phone or either of my roommates. I’ve avoided both of them like the plague. It feels as if I’m fighting to keep from slipping into a fit of rage. I feel as if I’m seconds from snapping at people.
I think sometimes knowing I have an out makes it easier for me to want to quit. If I know I can quite at any time there’s a chance I will. So what happens if I remove this out that hangs over my head?
Some might consider healing an out, a way to get out of the sickness I was left with when I was hurt. I don’t see it as an out, I see it as a choice to not swim in this mire of guilt, sadness and fear. When I heal I take an active stance. I move forward and through, up and above.
I hate when stuff is always my fault… or when it feels like its always my fault. This morning I woke from a dream where I was on top of a sky scraper with two friends who wanted to sky dive off the top. We’d all gone up there for that purpose but once up there I chickened out. Once I did that all three of our parachutes disappeared and we were stranded up there with no way down but to scale the building.
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