The S Word: The “Selfishness” of Suicide

The concept that suicide is selfish is something that has bothered me for many years.

adventures in adulting*

A month ago, many were shocked by the news of Maddie Yates, a high school student from Louisville, Kentucky who committed suicide after posting a video about her decision to do so on Youtube. 

And as events like these do, it brought up many peoples’ thoughts and feelings about suicide. And what always seems to pop up, amongst the outpouring of love and apologies and sorrow, is the one person who takes it upon themselves to call the person who took their life selfish for doing so. “Think about your family,” they say. “Think about the people who love you. It’s selfish of you to do that to them. Maybe they should have thought of them before doing something so selfish.”

And I can understand the concept. How could someone think about one of their family members finding their body lying motionless and still find the gall to kill themselves? How…

View original post 1,367 more words

Advertisement

My kitteh watches me purge

This is my kitty.

She likes to follow me around the house. This means she often follows me into the bathroom. Which, in turn, means she has seen me purge countless times.

I always wonder when she watches me purge (and she watches intently) what she thinks. I wonder if she knows something is wrong, if she is simply curious, or if she is eying the straw in my hand (and throat) wishing she could play with it. She loves playing with straws.

Sometimes, when she watches me purge, it makes me sad. I’m not sure why, exactly. It feels wrong

In which Wil Wheaton gives me sage advice and signs my miniature Enterprise

I had a dream last night. A dream about Wil Wheaton.

In this dream, I was doing PHP, which was (for some inexplicable reason) in a large hotel. Also happening in this hotel, Wil Wheaton was at a table signing stuff. For whatever reason, no one was in line. This is kind of sad.

As I passed the lobby/hallway/room (it was a dream, it changed a lot) where he was sitting, I noticed him, and who it was, and I got REALLY EXCITED.

I tried to figure out what I had with me that he could sign. I had a pillow (don’t ask my why I was walking around a hotel with a pillow) but I decided it was too big for him to sign (logic doesn’t work in my dreams). I did find three small things, one was a miniature Enterprise. I’m not sure what it was exactly, it looked kind of like an Enterprise-shaped crayon. I don’t know what the other 2 things were. One of them might have been a Star Trek-themed thumb drive.

Either way, I pulled these out (of where, I’m not sure) and ran up to him and asked him to sign them, which he did. Then, because no one else wanted to talk to him (poor Wil) I sat down and we talked for a while. I couldn’t tell you what we talked about, but I remember thinking upon waking that he was a pretty cool guy.

When I woke up, I was pretty sad because I like (what I know of) Wil Wheaton and I know the chances of actually ever getting to hang out with him are pretty slim, and it was a fun and enjoyable dream.

Plus, in my dream, my sister was SOOO jealous that I had met him because she absolutely loves Star Trek TNG.

Annnyway, after waking, but while still lying in bed (because technology makes this possible), I went to Facebook to post about my dream and how sad it was to wake up from. Then, I thought to myself, “I wonder if he has a Facebook page…?”

So I checked. And he did.

Not only that, he has a blog. While scrolling through his Facebook page, I noticed a post titled, “You stand at the edge while people run you through“. Curiosity piqued, I headed over to read it.

I’m really glad I did. He talked about his experience with depression, with feeling powerless, and his dislike of the paparazzi. The one thing that stood out to me the most, however, was two simple words: depression lies.

I have dealt with depression since childhood and no one in my life has ever articulated that thought.

I don’t know why it had such a profound affect on me, but it did. It felt like something clicked in my mind. Depression lies.

I want to remember that.