I haven’t been posting a lot lately. I get so blue in the winter. Next month is the anniversary of my son’s death. February 9th is the day he died. It will be 2 years. Then I have valentines day, the day I buried him. There are so many things running through my head, I don’t know which way is up. I tried talking to my best friend, but she wanted me to fix things her way. That’s not helping me. I think about suicide a lot. That’s how my son died. He hung himself with a sheet. The kind where you get on your knees and just lean forward. It will make you pass out in a hurry, so that all your dead weight leans around the noose you make with the sheet. Pretty painless way or so I’ve been told. It is hard for a mother when her only child felt so alone that he kills himself. I have cried so many tears that I can’t cry any more. Suicide runs in my family, as well as mental illness. My brother shot himself the day after Christmas. Shot himself in the heart. Pretty telling, isn’t it? He was thirty-five. My son hanged himself at thirty-three. I have tried so many times to kill myself, that there is no reason for me to be alive today.
I am mentally ill. I am bi-polar. Sixty percent of bi-polar people try suicide and out of that sixty percent, fourth percent make it. I have tried upping the dose of anti-depression, but that just throw me into a mania. Damn if you do or don’t.
Things are not going great at the house either. Some people are just so selfish that don’t care how other people’s feeling get hurt.