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October 14, 2007

I just watched a documentary about people who end their lives by leaping from the Golden Gate.

The Bridge.

If I can stay stable, I'm not going out by suicide.  (Other than Alzheimers -- I'm not going through that motherfucker.  But that's different.)

Mental illness is such a fucker.

Dazzling, jagged, howling, never-ending pain.

People who judge suicides just don't know.

It's almost impossible to imagine the agony.

You have to have been there.

I have.

Looking back, I'm surprised I didn't take myself out.

It wasn't that I wanted to die.  It just hurt so bad to live, is all.