That’s right: an addiction. Suicide pops into my head now at the least hint of anxiety. It’s like a craving—strike that—it is a craving, every bit as much as an alcoholic’s craving for his drink of choice, every bit as much as a sex addict’s craving for “old time’s sake.” When an addict indulges, it is indulgence in fantasy, indulgence in the escape, indulgence in avoiding reality. To be sure, we may consciously want something else—to get high, to get laid/loved, to get rich, to “end the pain”—but soon enough, our brains are awash in their own concoction of feel-good drugs. So, whether it’s a so-called chemical addiction or process addiction you struggle with, it is, more than anything else, an addiction to certain neuro-transmitters that renders us powerless.
The obvious next question is this: if you are addicted to suicidal feelings, how do you get sober? Well, my friends, I wish I knew. In fact, I wish I knew RIGHT NOW because I’m in pretty f*%@n’ bad shape… .
Sam Cooke’s old song “A Change Gonna Come” is about the hopefulness of a Black American despite the sorrowful life available to him. I find the words are applicable to any situation in which a person must find hope in a better future despite all evidence to the contrary.
Well, I’m going to check myself in today. The last couple of days have been pretty rough and I don’t know if I can make it through another lonely night. I will talk to my doctor about doing only the partial program instead of the full day. If you don’t hear from me for a while, you’ll know it was the latter. And, if you don’t ever hear from me again, you’ll know I took the third option.
It’s funny, I started this blog with the handle “Suicidal No More” — optimism springs eternal, or was it just sardonic word play? Either way, I can no longer continue the masquerade. I’m still sick. I guess I’ll always be sick. That points to a question always in the back of my mind: who would want to live like this for the rest of their life? I sure as hell don’t. Is that the disease talking? Or simply the voice of reason? I know what my doctor would say; what would you say — you who have been in the bog?
Thank you all for reading my silly little blog. It really has meant a lot to me.
WHEREAS, I would like to make this blog as close to a daily as possible; and
WHEREAS, Many of you have much experience with suicide, suicidal ideation, suicidality (both acute and chronic); and
WHEREAS, I am in a bit of a funk and am not inclined to get out of bed, let alone write something pithy and profound;
I propose that one or more of you SP (sick people) or FnF (Friends and family) or even one of TDHP (those damn healthy people) write today’s entry. Just enter it as a comment below. And, thanks in advance for helping me keep this project going through my little “crisis of the week.”
Someone asked me why I chose such a depressing blog layout. To be a good friend, I picked a brighter, more cheerful layout. Are you happy now? So am I. Everybody is happy. Happy, happy, happy … and above average.
