Suicidal

You know, there really are some times when I feel like dying. The frustration and disappointment over simple things that have complex undertones, sometimes gets too much to be able to bear. That’s when I can recognize – to my own surprise and horror – that somewhere in my brain there is a little thought that says, “Fuck, I wish I was dead.” It’s not one of those general casual verbal utterances, it’s a real, strong, powerful feeling of wanting to die. I think in some senses that kind of feeling of dying is not to be taken on a practical level – I’m not that brave that I’d pick up a razor and slash my wrists or go up a building and jump off – but on a very abstract, mental level.

You could say at those particular times, I want to really cease to exist. Literally. I want to shut off and not be part of the world. I think that’s very suicidal in a sense. Because what is “to live” if not to “not be dead”?