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Aaron N. Tubbs

Dragon chaser.

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And now for a departure from entries that are generally void of anything overly personal or emotional!

Apparently there are some people that worry from time to time that I might be feeling suicidal. I found this out because apparently if I say “I’ve got some stuff I need to get done tonight, I’m sorry” and then I’m on the computer, it’s assumed that I’m sitting here moping about my existence and wanting to die. In reality, I probably have some stuff to get done. Since I have a career that involves using the computer, sometimes I need to use it to do my job. I’m not overly fond of lying or making false excuses. If I was planning on going home and blowing my brains out, I’d probably say that, rather than “I’ve got some stuff I need to get done.”

Truth be told, I have from time to time felt suicidal. But, there’s a huge difference between not wanting to be alive and wanting to kill oneself, at least to me, and usually only the former is my affliction. So, rest happily, as you need not worry. Depressed? All the time. Clinical? Not really, the DSM IV will suggest I’m more dysthymic with bouts of severe but brief depression.

Killing oneself, depending on who you talk to, is either the greatest expression of power over one’s life, or an act of cowardice. I think I believe more in the former, but it’s hard to say which is correct.

Unrelated to that, I need to get around to actually finishing my suicide note, which I’m still convinced will be an interesting literary exercise, even if I never bother to publish it.

So, stop worrying. I’m fine. And, even if I weren’t, I’ll remind you again what I’ve said several times before — chances are anybody who thinks they are helping are just making things worse. Most people are ill-equipped to deal with the crazy, depressed, and/or suicidal, even though there’s a pervasive belief that everybody can help, and that everybody is god’s fucking gift to earth.

I know there are a lot of you out there who care. I appreciate you. I appreciate that you’re concerned. I need distractions and normalcy a lot more than I need anything else right now. I’ll probably never thank you in person for how you’re helping me, but I do know you’re trying, and I appreciate it, even if you’re doing entirely the wrong thing.

Or whatever. Time to go write some Christmas cards.