Proof I’m Not Suicidal

After yesterday’s post, I had a few people express concern for my mental well-being.  I apologize for scaring you, if I did, in fact, scare you.  I’m fine.  I just sometimes get obsessed with a thought and yesterday’s obsession was what would happen if my internet friends died.  I hadn’t, actually, even thought about me dying.  I just don’t want any of you to die, m’kay?  But yesterday’s post, in conjunction with a few poorly worded tweets, does, in retrospect, seem as though I may be having some bad thinkings, as Eirinn would say.  They could be evidence that a depression is brewing.  I see that now, but I’m fine.  Truly.  This is the hap, hap, happiest time of year and there’s no other season or holiday that I love more.  Not even, obviously, my birthday (another post that probably was added to the list of Reasons To Watch Jen O. For “Signs”).  I love giving gifts, I love carols, no matter how lame, I love the excitement my kids are consumed with, I love the excitement I myself have bubbling in my tummy, I love Christmas treats, I love decorating the house, I even don’t hate wrapping the gifts, even though I go overboard every year and have to wrap thousands of oddly shaped boxes.  Don’t care.  Still love it.  I’m fine.  I’m happy.  I’m grumpy sometimes and sometimes I’m sad about things, but overall I’m happy.  Fine and happy.  Nothing to save here!  I’M SMILING, SEE?

Convinced yet?  No?  Need more evidence?  Ok, let’s break it down scientific-like.  Here is a list of signs or symptoms of depression, as stolen from the first site off of Google when I searched for “signs or symptoms of depression”, so they must be accurate:

  1. you can’t sleep or you sleep too much
  2. you can’t concentrate or find that previously easy tasks are now difficult
  3. you feel hopeless and helpless
  4. you can’t control your negative thoughts, no matter how much you try
  5. you have lost your appetite or you can’t stop eating
  6. you are much more irritable, short-tempered, or aggressive than usual
  7. you’re consuming more alcohol than normal or engaging in other reckless behavior
  8. you have thoughts that life is not worth living (Seek help immediately if this is the case)

1.  I can sleep.  Usually.  I go to bed at around 11pm every night, even on weekends, and if I wasn’t woken up by snoring and dogs licking their privates and kids needing to go pee, I’d sleep cleanly until my alarm goes off at 6:45am.  Sometimes I fall asleep on the couch in the evenings, which might be viewed as sleeping too much, but it’s only when we’re watching a movie and I can’t help it.  Movies make me narcoleptic.

2.  I could never concentrate.  I’ve always been the type of person to have 8 tabs active on my laptop while watching television and eating.  I don’t have an attention disorder because it’s not that bad, I don’t think, but concentration often eludes me.  This isn’t new, so it’s proof of nothing.

3.  I don’t feel hopeless or helpless.  I’m full of hope.  I’m covered in hope all over the place.  I wear hope like a second skin.  Hope and me are like bossom buddies.  Same with help.  Hope, help, and I are the Three Stooges.  We’re tight like this (::crossed three fingers::).

4.  I suppose yesterday’s post could be construed as a negative thought, but it wasn’t a “negative” thought like they’re trying to get me to confess.  I think “negative” thoughts here means suicidal thoughts and I don’t have any of those.  I like living too much to choose death.  Death sounds boring.  I like being alive.

5.  Look, the day I lose my appetite is the day you should start worrying.  Have I lost my appetite?  BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH…no.  I’m pounding back a hamburger as I type.  I eat breakfast, second breakfast, barely make it to lunch without STARVING TO DEATH, second lunch, and a hearty dinner.  Once in a while I’ll even have a snack at night.  Me lose my appetite…HA!  Unpossible.  Oh, wait.  There were two parts to that point.  Well, I believe I eat a healthy amount and I eat because I’m hungry and I love to eat, not because I’m filling some emotional void with calories.

6.  I would say I am EQUALLY irritable, short-tempered, or aggressive as my usual.  My nickname growing up was Alligator, in honour of my propensity to snap at any given moment.  So that is NORMAL…for me.  Add to that two rambunctious, boundary-testing children and I’d even go so far as to say I’m LESS irritable, short-tempered, or aggressive than would be expected.

7.  I actually haven’t had a drop of alcohol in a month and a half.  So there.  And the most reckless behaviour I’d engaged in recently is driving from the mailbox to my house without my seatbelt (it’s literally around the corner)(and, no, I didn’t drive to the mailbox; I get the mail on the way home from work, undoing my seatbelt to get out and retrieve it) and that only happened a couple of times.  Usually I do it back up.  Because I’m not reckless.  I’m full of reck.  Hope, help, and reck.  Full of all of it.

8.  Life IS worth living.  The biggest problem I have right now is a bare patch on my Christmas tree I just noticed which is really doing cruel things to my concentration, and that certainly is no reason to kill myself.

I’m fine.  I’m happy.  I have morbid thoughts sometimes, but doesn’t everyone?  When I think about death, it isn’t because I want to die.  I think about death because it’s a part of life.  The ending part, but a part nonetheless.  I’m curious about some things and ask questions sometimes, in my head and occasionally out loud.  I love being alive, don’t have any desire to be any other way, and I promise I’ll let you know if that ever changes.  Promise.  As long as you promise to tell the internet before you go away so we don’t think you’ve died.  I worry about things like that.

(NSFW)

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5 thoughts on “Proof I’m Not Suicidal

  1. word on the blog street is you want to take yourself out and I’m high as a kite on coke.

    People read us so well, don’t they?

    that’s American sarcasm

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