They say, they say

They say you "have insomnia", but I assure you, no one HAS insomnia; insomnia HAS you. It holds you and cuts through you like margarine through a knife.

On this fine evening of subtracting sheep, I've made a life decision. A change of paths, one might say. Climbing a different valley, swimming a different lake, rowing a different boat ashore!

-I've decided to quit seriousness-

Anything of serious nature, unless of utter importance, is not for me. Maybe one day I'll come back to it, but for as long as I can hold off, I plan to be all silly, all the time.

Being serious bores me, and I don't aim to be bored. I aim to be have, because mother always told me to be have. She may have been telling me to haver, though. Makes me think of the term "keen"... you know, like an Irish keen. Not to be confused with quinoa. Which, if you didn't know how to pronounce previously, you do now.

Anyway... I am getting off point. And, you know what they say about getting off point, don't you? Oh, boy, well, I'll tell ya... I'll tell you right here and now. You won't even believe it. It's absolutely incredible what they say. If you want to know, you listen up right now, because it will truly astound you. The thing they say will knock your boots off, make your arm hairs stand right up, and send chills right through you. You'll be blown away, mind blown, blown outta town! I tell ya, you really will, once you hear.

Heck, being serious is an important part of life, this is for sure. Not much would be discussed, discovered, or disgusted if not for serious-talk, but I just don't think it's for me right now. Not at this conjunction, conjecture, construction, constructor in time.
Don't play dumb; play the trombone!

I've spent so many years of my life (62 to be exact) playing that part, much of the time. Talking philo-sisyphus and psych-oncology and any other word that I have to double-check when I write it down. The mind needs to relax sometimes and take a break. Sometimes it even needs to give a break.

I mean, heck, it's five in the morning! That means I've been awake for about 18 hours. Not that I've been counting... just basic math.

Well, anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I've reconfiguring my life. Hey, I'm even working on sorting out what I'll be when I grow up! Yes, sir, I really am. As those who know me know, I've had trouble with this for a while now. Always changing colleges and fields and paths.

Remember that time I was going to be an economist? I went to the meetings, I wore all red, I even studied in China and Russia! But when they told me I had to go online and support Karl Marx and Hugo Chavez, I knew ecommunism wasn't for me!

Then, next, I wanted to get into racing. Boy, did I! No one believes me, but briefly, I was the biggest racist around!

I actually worked at a watch store for a while, too. I wasn't so good at that, however. Whenever they told me to go find what made them tick, I would throw rocks at them and call them names!

Well, forget about being a personal trainer; that wasn't working out.

Anywho, my next gig is going to be as a cabin girl on a big cruise ship! Yeah! My only concern is that, when I go on a cruise, I tend to gain 20-30 pounds. The cruise director doesn't like that. If they don't pay me on time, I'll rock the boat.


Bah, you're ridiculous.

Ignor-what?

Normally, I would say ignorance is a wonderful thing. To some extent, at least. I don't want to know everything. I want to ponder and debate and question certain things. However, I've recently realized, if there is a Heaven and a God, and he doesn't let us know he exists, that's simply not fair. That's cruel.
Not for the sake of Earthly pain and trauma, but for those who have died. Some people are so good and kind that WE deserve to know the truth. Are they simply in a box underground being eaten by worms? "Oh, darling, this human is delectable!"
Or, are they still somewhere? Do they still get to exist? Because, for some people, I really hope they do. And, if they do, I want to know that. Otherwise, don't bother.
It may not be that I am an adamant atheist because I am *certain* there is no God, but more so, because I don't want there to be. If there is, it is sad to think "someone" like that could exist. Of all the evil we know of, God would be the very worst. The most heinous of them all. I hope for us all that he does not exist.
It would be much better to go on without meaning or purpose. To think it's all a chaotic mess and science has done us some good and done us some bad, but no one consciously chose to do such things to us.
What use is dying if there's no opportunity to jump back and forth between the Heavens and the Hells and the in-betweens. We can pop into Hell and greet Groucho Marx, and pop upstairs for a breeze and a chat with... who am I kidding? There's no one there I'd want to chat with! Then go back to Earth for a bit to make sure someone's been feeding your dog (or not, if you miss him!)
But that gets me thinking about the fairness of all existence! Which is way too big a topic to cover. However, think about it! I want you to THINK about it. In this big world of actual, real conspiracies. Ones we will never grasp. It's incredible. I mean, why did those bath salt zombie people suddenly disappear? Why did they suddenly *appear*? Reminds me of a friend I briefly had... He was an "activist", sort of. He showed up at all the rallies and whatnot, but never spoke of the cause. He'd simply tell me how much he wanted to hurt people. He had a rage disorder in which he would randomly harm strangers. He was delusional (he thought a cup of ketchup was blood....) and he really was an aggravator at these events. One day he disappeared. Gone. Everyone forgot about him. He caused trouble, made us look bad and dangerous, and then, who knows! It's so easy for xxxx to create these illusions, these events without anyone batting an eye. You have the conspiracy theorists making up crazy stories, no one listens, but then when odd coincidences and events come about, the "normal" folk rationalize it. Which is good, because there's enough crazy out there as it is. But, what about the things that could be happening right underneath our noses and we rationalize them, or we're so distracted by whatever the media wants us to focus on, that those things walk right past us. This scares me. This is why I try to avoid media, but media IS society. It's how we socialize, how we spend our free-time, how we make money and travel and bond and survive. If we live entirely outside of it, we have no power or say in what goes down. So, that's just as useless. If we speak up, we're given just enough rope to feel a sense of chaos and freedom, but never enough to unveil anything.
Humans are just animals, along with all the other "just animals", yet, our "intelligence" has given us the ability to ruin ourselves. De-naturalize ourselves. We've made life unfair. We live to complain and witness how unfair it is. We have no other option than to follow the lead of what we know. We're all part of a bigger picture that we label as nature or life, but, as far as we know, we've made everything we have. We've turned it into the something or nothing or meaningless pit of depression and anxiety that it is. Am I the only one who is angered by this? That we have NO other option than to obey? Even if one is outside the rules and expectations, they are still part of it! They are defined by living outside of it. Their existence is meaningless and useless for anyone but themselves. I can't speak for random tribes and communes elsewhere in the world. People living in caves and underground in the pipes or whatever.... I don't know what kind of life that would be. I'm not sure it's one I could live (then again, that may only be because I've adjusted to this pampered life.) But those people are suffering in their own ways. I am sure. They still experience physical pain and rejection and anger and are insulted and feel hungry and lack things.

It may seem as though I am jumping large topic to huge topic, but this is what is on my mind. This is why I barely sleep anymore, so pardon me. Especially if you're not really catching my points and thoughts.

Originally, my theory was that life was more pleasant in the past. That things were better. But, first of all, that's a very general statement that I can't really support without hours of research and hundreds of more pages. Second, that sort of conclusion is useless. It's a nihilist statement, because it is impossible to start over. What I seek is the solution for tomorrow. Not for the world, but for my own words of wisdom. What could I tell a child to help them live a happier life or a more fulfilling one? What would my graduation speech advice be? Or, is it simply, that there is no ultimate answer? Do we have to accept that there will be days when... when it feels as if there is no decency left? Is fairness not an attainable goal? Should good things happen to good people? I suppose not. Not unless they happen to.

I think I am having a legitimate existential crisis. Or a hair extension crisis? An extra-terrestrial Jesus Christus!

I'll stop now.

And, what did you die from?

You've read that article too, haven't you? "No one DIES from suicide. He/she died from depression."

Well, shut your mouth! I did not know that! Here I was thinking cut wrists caused death. Meanwhile, all along, he died from being sad. One second he was talking about disappointment and heartbreak, next thing you know; KAPOW! Spontaneous sad-splosion. Pieces of his soul were splattered everywhere. Police found dried blood on his emotional wall, which he could never break through. Poor fella.
He left behind only one item; his diary. Last page states, "Goodbye, sad world. If you're reading this, I've either died from sad-splosion or my sadness was so immense that my hands fell off and I became a leper. Don't blame yourselves, nor the rope I am dangling from. It's just bad timing. Funny story, actually. Remind me to tell you about it sometime. Just kidding!"

This is my favourite statement. Next to, "Guns don't kill, people kill."
True. The gun was all like, "Be cool, now. Let's talk this over. I don't want to start no trouble."
You know how weapons are. They keep chill under pressure.

Sorry- just a little gallows humour.
~Gallows don't kill people, racist Southerners kill people.~

Thing is, I know society needs to discuss depression. I realize it's a hot button, a sexy topic. But why are we still terrified of the s-word? That is, "Superfluous". I mean, I get it, it can be a tricky word to get used to. All those random U's and whatnot, but it's a really good word.
Oh, and also "suicide". That's another word that's taboo.
What good is that? We already love discussing mental disorders. That's already a big thing. Autism and OCD and ADD and PTSD and N64....
But, that's already out there. It's being talked about. People are getting braver about admitting and accepting that they have depression. Which is great! It's a major accomplishment for the little minds of our time. However, what's not being talked about is suicide. People will use any word, any excuse, anything to avoid that topic. Why? Because we don't get it. No one can speak with certainty. It's easy to say, "She was depressed. I know depression. I get why she's depressed, I know that feeling, and I know what we can do to help her."
However, with suicide, ain't no one got a clue!
We can guess and try things and whimper and moan, but at the end of the day, once someone's dead - le poof! You are too late. There's no reversing that, "I hate you. Go die." You regret saying that now, don't ya? Thought so.

How's about we talk about suicide? How's about we stop holding onto it like it's our "special" child. When we discuss him, everyone has to cover their ears, lest we offend or use the wrong words. That we say something insensitive, or, ohgod, make a JOKE! Don't you go laughing 'bout suicide. Nothing funny about that. Because, you know, you could be next.
Suicide is coming for you next, boy!

"One day I done sat here fer 'bout a hour forty-five. That's when I done seen it! It come right down along here with its lights and sounds, and I swears, it lands right next to me. As close to me as you're standing now. Well, I run to the barn and tells my wife, Susie. I tells her suicide's coming for us. I knew it would come, and it come. I got my shotgun, but by the time I get out there, they already done suicided my little girl. I says, " WHY!? Why you done suicided my little girl?" She just lay there; gun in hand, hole in head. Dead because of that damn suicide! Do not tread on me, suicide. Ya'll hear me? DO NOT TREAD ON ME! You go tell the president, you tell the governor, you tell Al Gore, we will not stand for this! We will not be defitted!"

You know how it goes.

But that's how it is. That's where we are right now. We are still terrified of discussing the matter, and it just grows and grows. Young people, old people. They see it, they know it's out there, and it tempts them. They have no idea what it feels like or looks like. They don't know what they're getting into, because no one ever talked about. Everything else was to blame, so it seems like no one has ever felt like them. Other people have been depressed, that's easy to talk about and sort out, but the only people who felt suicidal are now dead. They seem content!

That's not true, though. We know that's not the case. People survive suicide! Many people regret the choice they made. Others felt it was the best option for them. There's no way of hearing about it if everyone is too scared to touch the topic. They're made to feel guilty and weak and stupid; being told how they must feel, what they must do now.

We hide those people away and drug them up, so no one will ever know what they did and went through. Society is in trouble, we're making some big mistakes. So, don't be scared to talk about it. Don't shy away from the jokes and the questions. "How", "Why", "What"... these are the things we must find out and hear about. That's the only way we can begin to understand it, begin to prevent it, and most important, begin to treat these feelings. Not just teach people to resist any urges or "keep going because it gets better" (stupid fools), but to teach people how to overcome these urges. How to accept life again. And, if someone doesn't want to or can't, we have to learn HOW to let them go and how to deal with the aftermath. There's a way of cleaning up the wreckage without covering it with layers and layers of dirt. I want to see more dead bodies laying around, I SAY!

Or... something like that. Let's learn.

Commit? Sure, I can com

No. I can't. I can't commit. Schools, homes, jobs, relationships, plans, city, state, country... I don't want any of it.
It's not a conscious decision, like, "Hey- I'm going to accept this and ditch last second because I'm a jerk-wad!"
It's more like, "Ooh- that sounds great! Yes!! .... huh. Ya know, I don't think I can do this anymore. Nope. Can't."

And that sooks. SO BAD! A human being needs stability and the willingness to make things stick and work. The patience to find a passion for what they are doing and return to it each day. Hopefully, out of pleasure, not necessity. Sometimes, however, it is out of necessity, such as a job.
Maybe that's the problem, there are few things in life that I HAVE to do.

*Fills up shopping basket with stuff (i.e. food, clothing, stuff I need....)*
"erm. I don't really need this stuff..."
*empties basket and leaves*

This is an uncommon problem in society, an ignored one. As, typically, one sticks with something for more than a short period of time, because they said they would do it. Like it or not, consequences or not, most people will do something because they said they would.

Others of us are so stubborn, so sickeningly anxiety-ridden at the idea of committing to something they don't want to do, that they can physically become ill and find a way out. I myself have experienced this. A psychosomatic reaction to commitment. Normally, such things will take time. One might be so stressed by work that they find themselves in pain and must leave. Incredibly, there are those of us who can have the same reaction within days or HOURS! We might not even make it to the occasion.

There's only so long a person can thrive this way. Eventually, people walk away, jobs run out, and a person gets left behind. Not permanently, I hope. There are just spaces of time where there are no more options. No more things to cancel or quit. This can lead to feelings of inadequacy, inability... depression! Not THE depression, as there is reason and logic to it. Depression, nonetheless. General sadness; boredom, even.

How can the non-committal type learn to commit? Is it possible at all? I couldn't say for certain. It's especially interesting because, for me, personally, punctuality is very important. This being the case, you'd think I would hate the idea of unexpectedly backing out of things. Au contraire! Backing out avoids the task of being on-time. The stress of being early. Or, that could be a way I justify it to myself. We do that, as well. We find ways, unconsciously, to justify our unreliability. Our flakiness.

The term "flaky" has a stigma, does it not? Of course it does. It should! We're kind of jerks. We inconvenience people immensely. However, it's not out of irresponsibility or feelings of superiority. Well, that might be the case for some people.... In my experience, however, it's been an unconquerable fear and anxiety. As angry, hurt, or annoyed as the recipient will be, the one who is feeling the heaviness of anxiety is just as miserable. Again, that has been my experience. The loneliness and guilt that follows is beyond words.

I don't explain this infliction as an attempt to excuse these behaviours. Simply, to share a new view that most people don't understand. It doesn't just apply to any particular type of person, or just flaking out of plans, but it applies elsewhere in one's life. If someone transfers schools a lot or changes majors. If someone feels a constant need to move or travel. If you see a person who always seems to have a new job or a new beau; be aware. Be ready for an unreliable friend. This is not to say you should avoid these people, they may truly be trying, they may truly care. It's simple another personality trait. Just like the kleptomaniac or the incessant liar. They don't mean to be the horrible person they seem to be. It's this urge that bubbles and boils inside you until you can't control your words or actions any longer. You try to do the right thing and make the right choice, but next thing you know, you find yourself in the same unpleasant position you have a million times before. Forgive us, please. Don't let us ruin your life, of course. Be aware of our misdeeds and challenges. But don't write us off. We will be the first ones to understand and accept your flaws. Remember that.

I am curious whether there is a correlation between those who have this trait and those who have experienced an unstable childhood.

It's funny - I lived in the same house, went to the same school, and was surrounded by the same people most of my childhood. You'd expect that to imply stability. However, there was also much disarray. No rules, no schedule, nothing in my household or my life was set. People were late, bedtime was non-existent, and getting in trouble was a matter of whether or not someone was around to discipline you. Which was uncommon. Unless, of course, the timing was just right. There was certainly no certainty, nothing was absolute. Dinner was whenever food was ready, we got to school late practically everyday, and we did our homework around midnight or later. There was little order or sanity. So, commitment was unnecessary! I joined every team and club, I quit every team and club. No one cared. I never studied, never had a tutor. Well, we hired tutors, but I never went to them. There was a lot of pain and suffering as my parents tried to get me TO the tutor, but the next day, things went back to "normal".

But anyway, as you can see, I wasn't raised to commit. No one ever said I HAD to do anything. So, as soon as soon as something got unpleasant or hard, I could simply walk away from the situation. Unless it was a sibling beating, that was something one had to endure. The good news is, I am tough as a rhinoceros nowadays! See? Balance!

Upon reading further on the topic of commitment-phobia, I came across the term, "self-absorbed" a lot. Saying that people facing this disorder are self-absorbed and focus only on their own care and comfort, as opposed to the people they affect. While this is true to some extent; the individual cancels or breaks promises in order to ease his or her own discomfort, I think there is too much focus on this.
There are many negative ways I might describe myself, but to say I am self-absorbed in any way is highly judgmental and inaccurate. I do what I can to avoid inconveniencing people, as do most people with the same infliction. We do not aim to hurt. Sometimes, that comes with the territory, but we are aware of it at ALL times. It probably encompasses our thoughts more than the annoyance of commitment does! That is why we feel so guilty, that is why we are so depressed! Not because WE missed out or are bored or disappointed, but because we know what we did to others. How we let them down and made them feel unimportant. That is the worst part of it all. So, please, do not confuse our disorder for our self-indulgence. I am sure some commitment-phobes are indeed completely self-involved, but do not place such a cruel word and trait unto us all. It's simply not true.

Let's talk taboo

In the past 30 days, 4 people who meant a great deal to me have committed suicide. That is four. Four lives gone. Off the face of this planet, as far as we know or are concerned. How do we explain this? How do we provide closure and understanding? We do not. We cannot.

Barbara Richardson
Anthony Sandi
Jonny Ryall
Robin Williams

All four are now dead because they could not tolerate life. They could not find joie de vivre, nor anything to make-up for the misery or challenges they faced. Therefore, they ended it.

These names should not be forgotten. I want them written out, said, seen, and heard.
Because suicide is evidence of how selfless humans are.

Yeah.

How can you say suicide is selfish, but not credit those of us who are living to be selfless? To some extent, this is logical, is it not?

Not that I believe there is anything wrong with the selfishness of suicide. If anyone is going to decide when you die, it should be you! If you choose one time to be selfish, why not make it the time you can conclude your own story? Seems only fair to me!

Q: Does this mean I condone suicide?

A: I do not.

As a matter of fact, I beg you not to consider it. Not for a moment. Not for half a moment.
As I have now been hurt by the act 4 times, I can certainly say it hurts like all heck. Nothing gets better! Sure, you don't have to deal with your problems, but WE do, and that is the worst thing you can do to someone else. To lay that all on someone else is cruel. Albeit, it alleviates your pain.... Just, be aware; your loved ones will suffer. They will suffer more than you could possibly comprehend.

Will I look at you with disgust and shame if you are contemplating it? I would not be such a hypocrite.

As a person experienced in the thoughts and feelings of a suicidal mind, I know the only answer is to find help. Cliche, yes, but what else do you expect? A magical fairy to make life fair and easy and happy? Shut your face.

I guess the one member of this list that is most relatable, because we all know and love him, is Mr. Robin Williams. A God amongst comedians. The man we all want to be - at least, in character. What I fear most is, if Robin Williams; a man who has brought joy to millions across the globe, has a great career, lovely family, and such strength and intelligence - if even he could not and chose not to face another day; what hope do the rest of us have? What hope do I have?

There should be hope. I believe there always will be hope. But, do you see the conundrum we must face? The terrifying reality? Now, I know things didn't start out so simple for the man, and there were drugs involved, of course... but, why do you think that is?
Williams was a genius. Maybe he saw and knew too much for his own good...?

My other friends were equally as beautiful in heart and spirit. Wonderful musician, loving family person, delightfully charismatic and intelligent. The traits that make them each, individually incredible is endless.

What differs them from those of us who have less to offer in this realm?
I guess to answer that is to answer the question of the ages! The thing is, some people will never find joy or pleasure in this world. That may be called depression, that may be called awareness. After all, we do live in a world of emptiness.

Our lives are just buckets full of holes. Each day we fill them with things and stuff and people and whatever, but slowly everything drains out. We keep filling them; faster and faster. Convincing ourselves that they are just as full of flowers and bunnies as they were, but we will never fill them to the top. We will never be satisfied. Some people give up. Their arms ache, and they see no point in filling the bucket anymore. They know it will just empty out once again. They stop putting things inside. Eventually, their buckets fade away.

This is why I don't fill my bucket with pretty clothes and school papers. As a matter of fact, I like to sit in my bucket. How silly is that?

Sometimes I will sit down on a broken piece and get hurt. Other times, I will find something in the bucket that makes me smile. People will put things in my bucket from time-to-time. Good things, bad things, things I don't fully understand. But there's always something in there for me to explore. Not for the sake of filling empty space, but because, while learning more about my bucket, I learn more about other people and their buckets.

Some people may pass my bucket and think I look funny sitting there, or that I am wasting the space I have available, but I don't mind! Everyone must do with their bucket as they see fit.
Once in a while, someone will see me sitting there and they will put their bucket next to mine. We will chat or trade, or look inside each other's buckets. Scandalous, I know! It makes it all worth it, for whatever time we have together.
Buckets come and go, but mine is always under me. Grounded and safe. I like that.

Maybe if someone had helped those 4 people named above (go look at their names again) find a sturdy place to sit in their bucket, maybe their bucket would still be here. Instead of having been kicked into... well, who knows where?! Or maybe those buckets were worn out. They were kicked and dropped so many times that the hole grew bigger and bigger. So big that even when they sat in their own buckets, THEY drained out!

I wish I had known just how big their holes were. I would have tried to patch them. Then again, I'm not sure I have the right tools.
I will have to go out and buy stronger ones, and I hope you will, too.

Hole repair shopper's guide:

1 - Compassion, empathy, sympathy, patience, forgiveness
2 - A heart, a smile, a listening ear
3 - Breathing, hugging, kissing, hugging
4 - Music, art, dance, theatre, books
5 - Animal babies, human babies, flowers, sunrises
6 - Love, love, love, love.