Suicide is bad, please don’t do it, SOMEONE needs you. I am very lucky in that whatever may be wrong with my brain, I’ve never actively considered it.
HOWEVER. I also have a fucked-up way of looking at things. So, an acquaintance posted this on Facebook…
…and I know what they’re TRYING to say, but suicide *absolutely* ends the chances of life getting worse. It ends the chances of…LIFE.
Does it ALSO eliminate the possibility of things getting better? Sure. But this is just a faulty construct.
(I’m leaving out that things don’t always get better for everyone, and if I were suicidal, this might make me feel worse, like things get better for everyone BUT me and I’m just not trying hard enough, but I’m just focusing on the biology.)
One of the worst things about having my whole family on my personal Facebook is that, in the past 24 hours, at least one of them has likely seen me “like” four different wineries, the Philly chapter of a suicide prevention organization, multiple rape counseling centers, and a national association for depression and mood disorders.
Honestly, I just want to tour the wineries; I’m doing a 5K to support the suicide prevention group because I think it’s an important cause; I’m looking for a job at the counseling centers; and…well, I’m a depraved bastard who’s interested in mood disorders. *shrug* Y’all raised me.
Left to my own devices, I chose to spend my Sunday watching A Long Way Down (about four people who meet while attempting suicide, and I would, too, if I’d been in that awful movie) and Silver Linings Playbook (about an Eagles fan who was in a mental institution, which…you know, makes sense).
I feel as though I should be a little more concerned about how I spend my leisure time.
Oh, and last night I watched Secretary, about a girl who trades the release of cutting herself for the release of having James Spader spank her ass.
Hey, you people subscribe to my thoughts. So who’s the REAL weird one?