Saturday, February 12, 2005

I've Learned Something From All This

Obviously, this blog plowed ass-over-teakettle into new territory recently. I took the honesty to an entirely new level which, in retrospect, was probably inappropriate for public consumption. It didn't help matters that I was not articulate enough in explaining the difference between the "breakdown" I had on Wednesday night and the suicidal thoughts I've had in the past. In reading the post, I understand now why some of you were extremely concerned; I think I handled the language pretty clumsily, given why I was writing about it in the first place. More on that in a moment.

Other bloggers I know, who shall remain nameless, post the absolute truth and damn the consequences. As tempting and cathartic as it might be, I can't do that because I don't want to deal with the reactions I'd get. I'm just too damn busy to be untangling emotional hairballs in my spare time, and while I knew writing about suicide would generate reactions, I didn't think it would generate these reactions. The past 48 hours have been what I would consider to be a "correction" not unlike a market adjustment: I pushed a boundary that resulted in a massive response, which itself seemed to snowball. Rest assured this blog will return to its regularly scheduled programming.

The more I think about why I brought up the subject of suicide in the first place, the more I think it was less a choice and more a need. . . but not a need in terms of a "cry for help" or anything like that. The thing is, I've never been honest with anyone about those feelings I had two years ago. And when you're talking about Derrida and the meaning of life and sadness, suicide seems like a logical topic as well. And I've never talked about how agonizing my life was for those last two years at Amazon. And I'm at a place in my life that I'm comfortable sharing that crap, finally. I had to tell someone about it, but perhaps the blog was a bad place to do it. In retrospect it was probably the "overshare" of all overshares.

If you go back and read those passages carefully, you'll see that I refer to being in "stage one" on Wednesday night, with the truly nasty stages being three and four. This is because I edited out some wordy paragraphs about the various stages, but which also provided a bit more reference for what I was experiencing Wednesday night.

Folks, I was nowhere close. Breathe, count to ten, and slowly step away from the drama.

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