13-year-old daughter, that’s what probably sucks the most.
Ugh. Poor girl. Sad news.
i hear you. but, can i pee in the cheerios?
on the one hand, yes, when someone leaves loved ones, this is truly tragic. but i’ve been spending a lot of time over the last year ago contemplating uncontemplatable thoughts. things like, is homo sapiens really a species of more intrinsic value than others? and if not, what are the logical consequences? or, is legislated population control an abrogation of human rights? or, is it the balance of human rights with: a) the rights of future humans? and b) the rights of every other species? and so forth. so blame that.
one of my uncontemplatable thoughts is whether there are any people, at any particular time of life, who deserve the dignity of not being considered horribly damaged if he or she takes his own life? i mean, maybe there is terrible damage as the proximate cause. but i guess it’s hunter thompson who made me start to think about this. thompson wrote, per douglas brinkley, and best-read through the prism of pro football:
No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun — for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your (old) age. Relax — This won’t hurt.
his collaborator ralph steadman wrote:
… He told me 25 years ago that he would feel real trapped if he didn’t know that he could commit suicide at any moment. I don’t know if that is brave or stupid or what, but it was inevitable. I think that the truth of what rings through all his writing is that he meant what he said. If that is entertainment to you, well, that’s OK. If you think that it enlightened you, well, that’s even better. If you wonder if he’s gone to Heaven or Hell, rest assured he will check out them both, find out which one richard millhouse nixon went to — and go there. He could never stand being bored. But there must be Football too — and Peacocks …
i’m aware that there are all sorts of perils attached to even thinking about it, but we don’t think about it, we don’t talk about it (as a society) and consequently we sort of dehumanize people, and attach to them a stigma, when they kill themselves. it’s not necessarily the way they’d want to be remembered. so sue me.