Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Sunday, May 02, 2010


I never attempted suicide.  Because, I wouldn't "attempt".
Like everything else, win or don't play.
I seriously contemplated a bottle of pills when I was fourteenish?, but thats it.
I'm just too damn ornery to let anyone or anything else win.


If there was a way I could kill parts of myself and leave the rest...
I'd be all over that shit.
I wish there were a Surgeon that would remove those defective parts.
How is it any different than a tumor that hurts, weakens and kills you?
This is just slower.

I had a few moments of clarity?
I'm NOT going to.
I won't.  Recognize it.
I. Am. Not. Going. To.
There is no fix.
It doesn't work.
No. No. And NO.

I have relationships.  I can maintain bonds.  I have friends.  I ROCK my job.  I'm a loving parent (with flaws), I can control my anxiety.
I'm OK.
I've already changed so much.
And I'm OK.
I climb the mountain and plant the flag every single day.
The 10% iceberg doesn't sink me.
I fight and I win.
And that's enough.  It is!
I choose to reject everything else.

It's SO hard to un-describe.
How it un-feels.
It's like sleeping wrong, and your arm/hand goes completely dead, and then it smacks you in the face when you get itchy.  
But it doesn't feel like your hand, you recognize it's familiarity, and understand how it's attached to the rest of you. 
But it's dead. 
And numb. 
It doesn't respond. 
There is no control. 
Spectator sport. 
And then you go back to sleep. 
And focus on not getting itchy.
And the numb is so much better.



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