"Oh, how I hate to get up in the morning. Oh, how I hate to get out of bed." Yeah, this morning was not fun. In fact, I'd turned off my alarm and went back to sleep with a "screw it, I'm not going" attitude. And then Stormy called. Dammit. So I went. My favourite question? "What brought you here?" My answer? "My car." I know, I know. They really don't appreciate my smart ass attitude. But I think I'm funny and the whole jokes as defense mechanism has, I suppose, only steered me wrong every now and again. As opposed to my whole life which has steered me wrong pretty much consistently.
Anyway, I'm still all depressed and suicidal and stuff. But now, with the "happy pills" it's more academic considerations than emotional ones. Like I can contemplate the consequences of my actions without getting all upset over it. And the more I talk about it with people the more...I dunno, realistic I suppose, it becomes. Like I can think of emotional reasons not to do it, but I'm not feeling those anymore. I'm kinda taking everything on on a logical, thought out level. And on that level, suicide is actually looking pretty good. Like actually possible. And not only possible, but also a good decision, one that will make a lot of things better for a lot of people-people that I care about, the ones I care about the most. Like I SHOULD do it, like maybe I owe it to everyone. And like I said, I'm completely unemotional about the whole thing. That's probably bad. On a completely academic level, I can think of a hundred or more reason TO do it, but almost none not to. And talking to people isn't making it go away, it's making it worse-'cause the more I talk to people the more reasons I come up with. Ah, well, it'll go away. Or I will. Whichever.
Laters