Suicide - The Comedy

I borrowed that title from a film I was background in many many years ago. It, the title, came rushing back into my head last night in a flurry of phone calls, door knocks and emails. I am still, ten hours later, laughing. I may hurt a feeling or two here but will try not too. It is not intentional but possibly inevitable.

For regular readers (irregular as well) you know that there have been thoughts, talks, looks at and ideas of suicide here. On the spoons site I entered a debate on the appropriateness of such. My dark season has led to some interesting things. Spiritual / religious professionals, mental health professionals, pharmaceutical professionals and just some regular folks willing to hang out and share some insight.

My dark is still very dark. It is just not so much in charge as it has been. That being said, lemme make you laugh too.

Yesterday, the 100th anniversary of Mother’s Day, I was perusing a web site that had a question of the day spot. The question was, “Do you think there is an unforgivable sin?” Well, yea, I do. Regardless of the obvious contradiction, I would have to say, and DID say, suicide.  What I did not know was how this answer would be transmitted to the sites author.

I have no idea if this person reads my blog or not. I assume not since the last one was pretty clear about my current mind frame not being something to worry about. At least not with self inflicted harm. His response to my message was swift and deliberate. He got on the phone. He emailed me back. I did not response because I was watching a movie. I do not know how long all this was taking to happen but some time around 9pm (if you were part of this, I am just guessing, didn’t look at clock) there was a knock on my door.

Pause movie, answer door. My landlord and member of my church.

Him “Anthony, are you alright?”

Me “Huh? Well, yea. I’m fine. Just watching a movie.”

Him “Are you sure?”

Me “Yes, I’m pretty sure. What’s up?”

Him “Someone (I know but have not asked to use name) called, worried about you and wanted me to check on you.”

Me “Oh. Well. I’m fine. Thanks for checking.”

I just figured someone had read my blog, and reacted to something they saw there. Missed the therapy and medication posts and just thought I would be winding up an extension cord to hang from. Let it go and turned movie back on. A sub-titled film, interruptions are worse with sub titles.

Not two minutes later, phone call. Now, my phone does not ring at this time of night. I looked. One of my favorite people, friend, mentor, example and all around good egg. Seems she was also contacted by someone looking for my contact info. Being a good friend she did not, without my permission, give out, but called me herself.

Her “Are you OK?”

Me “OK, what’s going on? Two times in two minutes - who’s string got pulled?”

Her “Well, ……………

While she was telling me who called who and who was worried and who else was called and worried, I found the email reply to the email, suicide. The sites author received my answer. Only my answer. He sees an email from me that says nothing but, suicide. No indication that it was an answer to his question and not an indication that I was going too or thinking about same. He tries to reach me to check. No reply. He tries to reach other people to reach me. Thus the suicide comedy ball begins to roll. Up onto my porch, onto my phone, into my email it rolled and bounced around until this morning. It is still here but sitting more still.

I appreciate the concern. I am flattered at the quick response by so many people. I even enjoyed the attention and conversations. Even though I was watching a movie with sub-titles.

The thing I did think about before falling asleep was, why now? Not too very long ago I detailed my to do list and why. I talked about the method infesting my thoughts and calm, peaceful acceptance of the thought process. I talked about my resistance and non understanding of medicating the self medicating. So, why now? Why not then? Just wondering. I know why I didn’t do it. It’s not the reason you might think either.

Well then, here we are. If I was the kind that got embarrassed I might be this morning. To think that people would think I would kill myself. Oh yea, I am that kind. I told you all so. Good thing I am not the kind to get embarrassed eh?

I have added a few new names to my phone list. Prolly my Christmas card list too. I can’t wait for my next therapy session. This will crack her up I am sure. I feel the need to swing by church and show my face to someone too. Just to close all this completely. The idea to change that web site, to include the question with the answers, is already on the drawing board. What a silly mis-communication. I want to find a one word description of the resulting activity. I believe that will take some time. I am afraid my feelings of humor will give way to some others before too long.

Maybe this was reminder to me or was it for everyone else that was involved? Did it mean anything at all or just a moment of levity? I dunno. Just funny. I hope the rest of you that got the calls find the humor too. Part of me wants to apologize to you. When I am sure why, I will. Until then, just laugh.

Peace, Ant-Knee (intact with same length neck)

My soul.

Where is my soul? What is my soul? How did it become attached to food and music? Why do so many have so many views and descriptions for it?

Here’s the deal. This is a turbulent time in my life. (News? I think not.) On suggestion I have been reading, along with a few other fantastic suggestions, Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross. Lots of info on such in Wikipedia so I will not bore you with my lazy and off kilter description. I will tell you that I find it enlightening. Scary, difficult and confusing. My intention is to give you all a book report on it later. Stay tuned.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Night_of_the_Soul

For now I have to say just a few things. First, it is considered a blessing to enter into a dark night to have yourself, soul, person, spirit, whatever you call it, broken down, stripped bare of preconceived notions, laid open to receive, be humbled, CHANGED forever. Well, from here I gotta tell you, I am having some trouble using the word blessing!

When I get dark, I get good and black. I spent ten days obsessing on Romans 6:5. “If we’ve become united with him in a death like his”. There are many other wordings of this, all of which in their way still brought me to the same place. Not that in dying will I also be able to someday be resurrected but, that I needed to die the same way. Go figure.

This in turn led to a quite a bit of time spent on the thought of hanging. Suicide by Crucifixion being mostly impossible this seemed the next best option. Crazy huh? Yea, I think so too. I did at the time as well but, that did nothing for keeping the thoughts at bay or out of my head. It was oddly motivating as well as unsettling. It has (not sure why I call it ‘it’) led to many things. New mental health professionals, medication, exercise (a little anyway) and more reading. (medication update pending - can’t tell yet)

I expressed this in a few previous posts. It helped. I am into it here again not so much for me as I am to fill in a couple of you that are asking but not letting anyone else know you are. So, in a blanket statement to all - I am black, blue, bad and bruised. I am hurting still inside my head, heart and apparently my soul. It’s a season. It’s a BLESSING. It’s a giant pain in the ass.

My demise, should it occur, will not be of my hand or intention.

Learning, living. Not too good at either but still I try. Still not sure how to pray and definitely do not know how to listen for answers. Day to day, just trying to stay healthy as my body goes south. School is great but to no clear or useful end. Just something to do, learn. Winston, Falstaff, Zeus and Spike are all fine. Little bastards all.

There, you are updated. Not what I started out to do, just where I ended. I will pick up the where I wanted to be with the later I suppose. That is, if I find it again.

Peace, Ant-Knee

PS - does anyone know how to make links, clickable links in here?

As I see it …

…, like most things, it could be worse. My news today was not good. It was however, the better of the bad news it might have been.

I do have macular degeneration. I have the common ‘dry’ kind that effects a large portion of population. This I see as good news since it means there is more information on and **treatment options for. I also see the not so good side. As presented to me by my doctor, “Your eyes are sixty-five or seventy years old”. Hmph. What will they be like if I live that long I wonder?

Since it early in it’s progression, there is no real treatment at this time. I am to test my vision regularly and when it begins to change, make an appointment for another test. This too is actually good news as I could not afford more meds or visits with the other professionals I am visiting and medication I am taking. Good thing I am now on a mood stabilizer. Maybe that is why I am so calm and matter of fact about this. I doubt it though. Only been on those a week. On an upswing at this anyway. Who knows. Not me.

My old eyes. Sounds like a county song. So much for the masturbation = blindness jokes.

Now I can get back to whatever else it was I was trying to do. Hmm. I no longer recall what that is/was. Where is my list?

Peace, and thank you to all that asked. I appreciate your interest.

Ant-Knee

**I just read some more about this and am not thrilled to have gotten my info mixed up. There is no FDA approved treatment for dry macular degeneration. Only for the wet kind. There is strong evidence in support of dietary supplements being effective in slowing the progression. It’s always something. I guess I just didn’t understand when she said there was nothing to treat it with. Medium language barrier mixed with my misinterpretation of previously read material. Bright side = no meds to buy!

Ice cream. Time for ice cream.

11 months

May 4th. The day before the more American than Mexican holiday of Cinco de Mayo. A short milestone for me.

Eleven months sober. Or, more exactly, eleven months of not drinking. I made a point of the difference some time ago. One is working to make yourself a better person while not using. The other is just not drinking. I am just not drinking.

Sort of.

In the tradition of AA I am just dry. However, I am in school, therapy and church. On meds and doing assigned reading. Even attending a senior Tai Chi class! (More on that later!) I would have to say I am actually working on improving but, not according to AA. I am not going to meetings or working with a sponsor. My last sponsor turned out to be a nightmarish situation. Not interested in trusting anyone else there at this time. I am not working on my ’steps’ with anyone. I am looking for some one to work with but not with a bunch of gusto. If one happens to wander into my garage one day…….

There is an ease and familiarity with just saying, “I don’t drink” and then moving on. I do not crave and I do not worry. To many that is a red flag. To me, it is a fact, I don’t drink. I am as good at not drinking as I was at drinking. I am just as comfortable with it as well.

So why do I count time then if not to share at meetings? Good question that I cannot answer. There was a time when making it to one year was very important to me. That held a huge prize, opportunity. It was a date loaded with potential. Now, it is just going to be another day. Just like today. Just another sober day. No big deal. I have other things on my mind much more important. School, finding a real job, loosing my vision, and stuff. Lot’s of stuff. Kick ass fun theater, my garden and my animals. Books to read and to write. People to meet.

So, I will note this day next month with about the same or maybe even greater lack of enthusiasm as I have noted today. I hope my meds have kicked in and take then high and low ends away by then. It will be a big day for me, not for not drinking but for what will not come with it. Besides, someday someone will ask me, in shocked disbelief, “When did YOU stop drinking?!?!?!” Probably someone I have not seen in a year.

Peace, Ant-Knee

My Lilting Lily

If this place was a home for sale in the current slumping real estate market, I would say, “Attractive, soothing water feature”. If normal no smoke in the butt description was appropriate, I would call it a fountain. If this place was on wheels, “It’s a whiskey barrel with plastic and a pump! So what? Ain’t no fish in it so what’s the point”?

The reality is, the trailer park guy is closest. It is a fine example of what a whiskey barrel half can become in the possession of a man with time and some tools. Not to mention a Lowe’s strolling freak with big yard fantasies trapped on a 20 X 20 concrete pad.

The entire pond/fountain kit was on clearance for only 15 bucks. Who could turn that down? The pump alone is worth 5X that! They all but twisted my arm. Now, since I cannot dig a big hole and lay in the liner as intended, I had to go above ground. Thus, whiskey barrel.

Heavy black plastic laid in and staple down. Pump in place, cord run though window into to living-room. If that don’t scream trailer park nothing does! Kinda wish now it needed an extension, bright orange cord inside and out. Would be tempted to check the floor for level after heavy wind and rain.

It works. It bubbles and spurts and creates a fine relaxing environment inside and out. I love it. I does still look like a barrel full of black plastic and water. Working on some plant hanger idea. In the meant time - the lily!

It, the kit, came with a floating, solar charged, glow in the dark lily pad! This thing is awesome! Big. About 1/8 the surface area of barrel. Maybe bigger. Plastic, very obviously plastic. Milky looking flower. Can’t really tell if it is cloudy and should be clear or should be white and cloudy semi-clear. Either way, it looks like it was not done right.

It floats around all day sucking up the power of the sun then, floats around all night with an eerie white glowing flower in the middle of it’s funky green self.

This morning, on my daily trek out to feed the local wild birds, I notices my lily was lilting. Just, tipped almost 1/2 way over on it’s side. The side with the oh-so-easy-to-see solar collection panel was under water. It seems my lily leaks too. I tried to shake it out. Made some progress but my lily leak must be little. As only a few drops came out yet, it still tipped right over when places back in barrel.

I do not have the the time this morning to take it apart and solve said sinking situation but, I will make time and tell you about it later. Until then, my lily lilts in my bubbling barrel.

Peace, Ant-Knee