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The way people talk about suicide reflects how little they understand. A local woman threw herself from the railway bridge and damaged her spine. We happened, in our own commuting group to discuss the matter and I had to laugh at the silence when I reflected that it was a silly thing to do, when a bottle of vodka and pills would've have been less dramatic and certainly less painful. I realised, not for the first time, that people will pretend, and life is just a stage (state) well, it's disappointing really. Anyway, she survived, crippled physically, maybe it was easier to be in pain that way. I met someone who helped me, it was a shock, so shocking that I went into hysteric monologue, none of which he understood or derserved. Instead of being eurphoric with relief I have been in a constant state of agitation and anxiety because good things have to be paid for. My life is a mess one one hand and enviable on the other. I have a good husband, two great daughters and a wonderful healthy granddaughter. I feel no passion for my husband, worry constantly for my daughters and want to run away with my granddaughter. But I'm not what she needs, she needs her mum, and everyone else needs me. I'm so sick of being there for everyone.
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Posted by tiente on 2008-03-16 21:25:35 | Rating: | Views: 38
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