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2007-01-05 02:31

ok, so i’m deeply suicidal again and have been for many weeks. i’m soooooooooooooooo conflicted about writing this, because it’s hard for the reader not to interpret it as a plea for attention, when it’s not — intentionally, at least. the last thing i want is the condescension of attention. for what that’s worth. really, from my drunken perspective at least, it’s just my feeling hilariously guilty for not posting for so long.

of course, if that really were all, then i could easily post something untroubling like “hey, i’ve been involved with lots of fulfilling activities over the past few weeks!”

which i haven’t.

sorry to be a complainer.

to be truthful, i’m not exactly totally suicidal. my son, max, whom according to his wish i refer to here often by the blogonym morpheus (he likes the matrix flix), has now twice made me promise not to kill myself, on the ground that it would be too painful for him and anneliese and too selfish of me. so i’ve pretty much convinced myself that as long as life is humanly sufferable i won’t kill myself. but i do feel, day after day, as though i’m waiting to die. somebody, kill me please and make it not my fault.

waiting to die, waiting to die, waiting to die. . . . waiting to die for the seventeenth time.

the very, very first time i got stoned, in seventh grade, i listened to that record, while on a bed at nina lichterman’s house, making out sloppily with leigh tracy scott, born in a pan. whom i still adore and would love to hear from, google god.

ok. that’s it for now.

i’m sure i’ll be alive and drooling many years from now, so please don’t make any comments about how i need to get hold of myself. that’s the last thing i need to do.


rechurn-of-the-depressed  ·  anecdotage


* * *

  1. yah. i’ve told a few people that i’ve been depressed and anxious and thought about dying and the annoying thing is that they end up bugging you to death with phone calls and checking in. it’s driving me nuts.

    funny how that works. i’ve noticed that getting out for social things helps, but those cost moeny and i’ve got none.

    i know no one will ever take care of my cats the same way i do, so i have to hold it together.


    your pal    Jan 5, 11:06 AM    #
  2. People living in the green zone in Bahgdad say an interesting thing—if you hear the roar of the explosion nearby then you don’thave to worry, because hearing it means it hasn’t killed you. I’ve been faithfully watching for your return, aware that the reason for your not showing up might be that you were feeling suicidal once again. The nice thing is that just hearing you confirm this was the case, means you are still here. And that’s good.

    Two things:

    1. We don’t know about people who succumb to the suicide attraction, but those who do NOT are always glad that they did not.

    2. I’ve been following a blog that I recommend to you: moronosphere.com/hiromi
    Hiromi is amazingly smart (like you), has chemical issues (like you), and other issues (maybe not like yours). She is also well learned and amazingly articulate (more or less like you). What she has been doing the past half year or so is deciding she wanted to do something with her being, and documenting the steps and stages of her journey. She is always interesting, always amazing, and I commend her to you. Let me know if you enjoy her as well.

    Carry on, dear. We care.


    erasmus    Jan 5, 12:31 PM    #
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