The Dumbest Decision of my life

I am up at 4:17a.m. because I have been high on antihistamines (thanks to swimmer's sinusitis from swimming in the afternoon) and collapsed into bed at about 9.  I rushed home after my brother called to say my mother had to be admitted into hospice again because she couldn't breathe.  But when I got home, it was more like he had a bit of flu and was afraid to touch her.

She was lolling around in bed like a fur seal waiting for its mother to come back with fish.  The doctor-on-call was beside her and had already administered nebulizers and morphine and she seemed fine.

She said: "Why are you home so early?"

I said: "Is everything ok?"

She said: "Ya."

I said: "Oh. Good." And then promptly fell onto my bed and fainted.

The drug Dragees (bright green tabs) don't work on me and I had to double the dose of antihistamines with Became.  I regretted that soon after when I started getting chest pains in the taxi.  I got to remember not to take prescription drugs too lightly.

At least I'm not up thinking about my friend's suicide.  I had a look at his lists again, this time his suicide resources list, and was shocked to find that a lot of suicide information could be so easily obtained.  I was even able to figure out the best method of suicide for someone in my given situation and available resources.  I guess it's the downside of the freedom of choice and expression.

To be honest, I was tempted.  I thought if someone who had everything could throw it all away I guess it would be even easier for me to do the same.  These destructive thoughts of course always seem to be more alluring when you're up at night in the silence thinking about all the times you've been let down over and over again and still walking around when people around you have decided to quit.  To take things on a crazier level, I prepped myself, even prepared my weapon of choice and even talked to my Dad about this possibility (I was thinking I shouldn't kill myself suddenly without giving my Dad some mental preparation). 

Of course Dad flipped (but I didn't tell him about my weapon of choice otherwise he might have been desperate enough to call someone to strap me down in a mental institution).  He said I didn't know anything about suffering otherwise I wouldn't want to kill myself.  We had a heated conversation.  Mostly with me talking about suicide like I was just making a major decision to switch jobs while he couldn't see why anyone in my situation would want to kill myself.

I thought: That doesn't make sense.  If I knew anymore about suffering, I think I'd go plain crazy.

But then I think it was mostly talking with Karen that sort of made me feel silly for wanting to kill myself.  It was like: "I've decided to kill myself." and trying to keep a straight face so that she'd take me seriously but deep down I was kind of laughing at myself for how ridiculous it sounded while being depressed all at the same time.  It's difficult to describe.

And then she'd kind of distracted me with her story of how she and Peppy were attacked by a cat and replied to most of my declarations like I'd just told her that I was going to quit my job and sit at home.  I have a feeling it helped greatly that she wasn't emotional and dramatic about it.  If she was, I might have been spurred to continue on,  She was just very factual and realistic... come to think about it, very much like why would I want to quit my job and sit at home?  Are you sure you'll be happier being a loser?

And then there was also the spiritual side of things.  When I'd prepared my weapon of choice, I went to my mother's bedside to check on her.  At this point, she had been playing with this large stuffed toy seal that I had bought for her to hug.  And she was smiling and contented and playing with the seal, like a child.  There were a whole load of stuff hanging from my mother's bed, including a small ball which I'd begged from my colleague Damon and pretty photos of birds and flowers which I'd put all around her so that she wouldn't just look at the ceiling all day.  She was playing with the seal and with the ball (punching it around and making punching noises... it's the second childhood I always say).

I guess it would be most cruel to meet the punch of having to lose someone you love by making sure that they lost you first. 

I was feeling terrible but what she said next scared me shitless.  She said: "Why is that thing following you?"

I said: "What?"

She said: "Something black and small like a cockroach.  Kill it! Quick!"

I said: "Where?  I dont' see anything?! Where?"

She said: "There! Why can't you see it?  It's right next to your foot."

She screamed for my brother to come in and kill it because I was just turning around and around and not being able to see anything.  My brother came in and he couldn't see anything either.

I thought she was high on morphine.  But then I remembered she hadn't taken morphine at all that day.

And then the next day I was on the train heading to work when this man passed by and suddenly stared at me like he saw something on my face.  He didn't say anything but his face expression scared me because he looked frightened and then it freaked me out more when he looked down at my feet and wouldn't stop staring at them.  Two women who were standing beside me stared too because they couldn't figure out why this guy was staring so hard with that horrible expression on his face.

I don't know much about spiritual stuff.  But let's just say that suicide no longer seemed as simple as quitting your job and staying at home.  It suddenly took on a whole new terrible meaning.

I asked Karen whether there was a possibility that after you'd declared that you wanted to kill yourself that something or someone is suddenly there to make sure that you do.

Karen just said that dark things are attracted to negative thoughts and bad things happen to people who expect that bad things will happen.

I guess suicide is just not so cool then.  After all, I love almost all of God's creatures except for cockroaches.  And I don't like the idea of someone or something following me around to make sure that I do make the dumbest decision of my life.