The Road to Suicide

Suicide is never going to be an easy topic to approach and often times it is muddled by religious sentiments casting a shadow over the life-self-taken. It is harder to comprehend when the life-self-taken is young and seemingly still full of years.

The person who chooses to take his/her own life follows a pattern that can be tracked and monitored. Only if people are aware and watchful for the signs.

  1. Frustration at situations around them or situations out of their control,
  2. Depressive mood,
  3. Clear intent of suicide – they actually tell someone; what they want to do,
  4. Reaching out for attention.

Suicidal tendencies can affect anyone at anytime. It is not a disease of the insane; in fact it is an affliction of the sane. A bright mind unable to cope with the harsh reality of life. A bright mind that could have been helped only if those around him/her stop to listen.

p/s There was a suicide in my organization and I took a peek at the person’s last few blog entries. Depression and frustration were evident, the person wanted to be heard.


Living a nightmare.

I had another bad night.

Trying to get a good nights sleep is a chore.

Often times I find myself wishing things would just end. Stop breathing and just stop the dull pain that eats away at my chest. Yes, it sounds stupid but unless you have ever been through it; you will never fully comprehend the pain one has to endure when hit with a depressive state.

I don’t remember when I eventually fell asleep, but I remember telling my mind to shut up and I focused on the sound of my own breathing. Eventually, I must have dozed off. Yet, it was a nightmare. Normally, nightmares strike us as we sleep, not when we are trying to get some sleep. Yet, I was stricken with a continual nightmare in trying to get sleep into my system.

And it is a struggle for me. My depressive nature strikes when I am least distracted. Yes, work is a kind distraction. It keeps me moving and busy and occupied from what ills me. But take that distraction away and I fall into a quiet state, then the nightmare begins.

My thoughts go hay-wire and memories and visions explode in my mind. I hear my mind talk and it scares me. Madness is a constant fear of mine. To have my mind descend into the abyss of insanity is not something I want, yet I seem to be edging towards that cliff with each nightmare episode.

The morn brought some rest-bite. And I am hoping things would be better. Yet, with about 5 hours sleep; I hope I don’t end up being grouchy in the office.


Poem: A cloud over my head.

A Cloud Over My Head
by Maclean Patrick

There’s a cloud over my head,
The kind that keeps you awake,
Pulls you along a string of dreams,
Annoying, a pest, the beholder of a head-ache,

There’s a frown on my face,
An up-side down smile,
The kind that brings tears to your eyes,
Tears of pain and all things vile,

There’s a hole in my heart,
The kind that comes from a fracture,
Pulling me deeper into the abyss,
A spiral of gray dreams; beyond measure,

There’s a cloud over my head,
The kind that keeps the frown on my face,
A swirl of gray measurable-less dreams and screams,
As I lie watching from this earthly space.

To Those That Don’t Understand, It’s Spelt ‘DEPRESSION’


“Let it go.” “Get over it.” “Move on with life.” “I don’t like the change in you.” “Just think happy thoughts.”

I’ve heard my fair share of comments. The comments are fair and spoken from well-intended motives. The people are sincere and trying their best to nudge me along.

But they got it all wrong.

I often dismissed this form of positive-emphaty as being the inability of the commenter to understand the true nature of the condition that has gripped me. For in all fairness, only those who suffer would know how it truly feels.

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Shopping Therapy – Buying a leather jacket to beat depression.


Ok, I don’t look like Wolverine but don’t you just love leather jackets. Don’t you just love leather?

I was feeling really pissed the other night, someone ticked me off and it caused turbulence in my rather calm mind at that time. I hate it when people screw up your almost peaceful day by being plain rude and disrespectful. So taking a page from a friend, “Shopping therapy always works.” (The ladies have always known this since the beginning of time.) I went out and bought myself a jacket – leather and all.

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The Best Thing About Depression

Being depressive is not all doom and gloom. There is a bright side to it and it basically explains why writers (afflicted with depression) seem to be successful at their craft.

In a survey led by the neuroscientist Nancy Andreasen, 30 writers from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop were interviewed about their mental history. Eighty percent of the writers met the formal diagnostic criteria for some form of depression. A similar theme emerged from biographical studies of British writers and artists by Kay Redfield Jamison, a professor of psychiatry at Johns Hopkins, who found that successful individuals were eight times as likely as people in the general population to suffer from major depressive illness.

Article: The Evolutionary Reason for Depression

This helps me understand myself better. I’ve always been a thinker and I guess, thinking is what I do best, though at times; I’ve been advised not to think too much. Yet, through my ruminations; I’ve learnt to comprehend my universe better.

In this article and the in the article it referenced – Depression Upside [The New York Times]; it suggests that depression may be a good thing after all. This goes against all that we believe about depression. Depression and sadness are all part of our personalities as human beings and thus, have their place in our development as individuals.

So the point is, to make the best of what you are and this involves using our sadness and depression to become the best we are.

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Some days I Just want to be an arse.

It’s one of those days again. The kind where you wish you were radioactive and everyone around you would die from a radiation sickness.

Today I am an arse.

That’s not the writer in me writing nor am I being philosophical about my day. I’m just an arse. Grumpiness, indeed comes with age. Irritability comes with too much sugar and an overly critical mind.

I’ve been called jerk, sick, assh***, freak, get the picture. I’ve given my service to several causes, only to be forgotten. Yup, only when you are needed are you truly remembered.

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