February 11th, 2013
< Sunday Times and Daily Mail hatchet job on my career. Assassination journalism, convenient for whom…?
Murdoch, The Sun and ‘child porn’. >
The cursor is blinking at me, expectantly, pregnant with possibility, leaden with tension.
How do we speak about suicide in society? What do we think of it? It’s such a taboo. They used to put a wooden steak through the heart of people who killed themselves. As if their hearts weren’t already broken.
What should be more of a taboo is the fact that as a society, we all too often turn a blind eye on suffering and cruelty which leads people to this most desperate conclusion. To take your life is the ultimate act of human volition, the ultimate choice.
I have lost count of the number of times I have wished I could end it all. I come close but then remember my daughters, and that is the steel barrier between me and the edge of a building, a handful of pills, a tube platform.
I came close in December, as close as I’d ever been. As close as I hope I ever get. Most of the time it’s tucked away deep down in my psyche. But for some reason tonight, at 0.20, it is there. Not the active thought; the reflection. I think it was House of Cards that did it…
Good night folks. Be good to people. We are only humans.