Thursday, February 24, 2011

To be or not to be watching Spongebob

I've been thinking some about the subject of suicide lately. IN THEORY ONLY, mind you. Partly because I found this blog (www.rrsahm.com) by a woman who's husband just killed himself this January, partly because I watched The Sunset Limited (trailer below), and partly just because. I will admit to having spells in my life when I've fantasized about slitting my wrists, taking a bottle of pills, or driving my car into an oncoming truck. But why do people do it? AND why do people who only think about it, decide not to do it?

Well, I certainly can't answer either of those questions across the board, but I think it must come down to hopelessness.

I know there are people who only don't do it because of religious reasons -- they believe they will go to hell. I personally don't have that particular barrier. I just think about the pain that would be left behind... children crying for their mother, and not knowing why she is gone forever.

But even aside from that, I've personally never gotten to the point when I couldn't find any small pleasures in life. Even in hard times, I like to eat, I listen to music. I watch Spongebob. (Just the other day I told Dan that when I'm in a really bitchy mood, watching Spongebob snaps me out of it. I was trying to give him a subtle hint about how to handle me. I don't know if he picked up on it.)

I don't know where I'm going with any of this. Maybe I'm just really shallow if TV and music give me something to live for (I'm oversimplifying and being a tad sarcastic here) or maybe I'm just super-duper fortunate to have never felt that I am without support. I have never in my life felt truly alone. My mother and grandparents have been such a solid foundation for my whole life, and I can only hope to be the same for my children.

In The Sunset Limited, the suicidal character had lost faith in his "religion" of choice, culture. He basically thought culture (and civilization) had gone to hell in a hand basket. I thought that was kind of a bullshit reason to want to kill yourself, but obviously I'm a bit of a twit if I like Spongebob at 33 years old.

I thought too about Love. Isn't love something to live for? Not just romantic love, of course, but love for siblings or friends or pets or WHOEVER. And there it comes back to connections, support. Not being alone.

Yesterday in therapy, we talked some about Lori's statement that she had set Garrison free. Free from what I asked, even though I knew the answer. Some say there is no hell. Some say the only hell there is is the one we make right here on earth. I can see that. But there is also a hell of a lot beauty and good and love here on earth. Why would I want to miss it?

3 comments:

Mwa said...

One of my pleasures is reading your posts. Like just now, when I'm really bitchy and I chose to come see how you're doing. You hold on there, times are tough but you've got many many more episodes of SpongeBob to watch. x

Ms. Moon said...

I think that sometimes the idea of suicide isn't so much a real thought of wanting to die as much as it is wanting to leave the specific life one is living.
But when it gets really serious, when someone seriously attempts or does it, it humbles me. There is nothing bigger than the will to live and when that is overcome by depression, it is huge.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

I'm glad you've never felt alone. That is a good life right there. I couldn't do it, myself, because I couldn't hurt my mom like that. Also, I'm afraid of death. Even though it sucks here, it could be worse on the other side. I have the optimism of Woody Allen, basically.

Love you. Have a great weekend.

SB