October 14, 2007
I just watched a documentary about people who end their lives by leaping from the Golden Gate.
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.
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.