OMG: Everything Is so Great!

I contemplated after posting yesterday: Is it wise to mention one’s suicidal thoughts on the internet? It’s partly just a matter of logic: I have tied myself into such a horrible tangled knot over this stupid decision that, at the moment, I can’t picture myself in either place, and if a person isn’t in this place or that place, then aren’t they in no place? Now I’m chuckling: I ought to be able to picture myself sitting in front of my computer in San Francisco since that is where I actually am.

I had a wonderful friend in Alcoholics Anonymous when I was in my late teens and early twenties. His name was Chet. In his early forties, he had two little girls with his ex-wife and was a father figure to me, as well. He once told me that if I were any smarter, I’d commit suicide. He didn’t mean I was too stupid to think of such a great idea and carry it out; he meant that a speedily processing brain is not always a good friend, and that if mine processed any faster, it would be an outright enemy. That’s what’s happening now: Too much thinking.

So returning to sitting meditation does seem to be a positive step. As Howie mentions very often indeed, in these or other words, when we are attending to the “raw data of cognition,” we can’t be lost in a story about the past or future. Listening to the fan whir, knowing I am hearing this: In this exact moment, is anything missing or broken or not enough?

Also, if James Hetfield can mention suicide in his songs, I can mention it in my blog. He’s still here and so am I.

I was recalling another time I saw this kind of debilitating indecision: After my mother had started to have dementia. Her phone died and she went back and forth and back and forth about replacing it, anxious about spending the money, among other things, though that was far from an issue. Earlier on, she would have had a lot of fun with a new iPhone. She would have tried out every app, every wallpaper, every setting, every color, every possible thing that phone could do. We would have been deluged with text messages and videos full of special effects. By the time she finally did get a new iPhone, it was impossible even to teach her how to make a phone call or to answer one.

We went through the same thing over medication for her Parkinson’s disease. She was initially worried about side effects and decided not to take it, but later thought maybe she should give it a whirl. Back and forth, back and forth. Every several months, she said maybe she should try the medication. She never did end up taking it, or any other substantial medication. In memory care and on hospice, she was given a small amount of Ativan daily and also CBD daily, the latter per me and my sister, which did seem to help with her mood and with sound sleep. In her final months, when her breathing was too fast, she got a bit of morphine, and steady morphine in her final few days.

A minor note about oatmeal: I decided it had better feature toasted walnuts or nut butter (walnut or cashew) and not both. After yesterday’s oatmeal with both, I was not hungry again for 24 hours.

If thinking “I can’t stand it” leads swiftly to a dire state of mind, wouldn’t it be the case that thinking, “Oh, my god, everything is so great!” would lead to the opposite? I don’t know why it doesn’t seem to work that way, but it doesn’t. The latter seems artificial, like an attempt to force things to be some other way, whereas the former just seems like sound and accurate reporting.