Why am I still alive? Well I think it's because I'm a fighter, because I am determined every day to struggle with all my might against the will to self-destruction. I think it's my courage that has kept me alive.
Haha, just kidding. Actually the reason I'm still alive is that every time I reach the point where it seems like maybe it'd be better if I wasn't, I find myself struck by one or all of a number of points:
Firstly, I am still alive because of spite. There are enough people in the world who I know would be happier if I was dead, that it seems worthwhile staying alive just to make their lives a bit more miserable.
Secondly, I know that on the occasion of my death, everyone who ever knew me, or pretended to know me, or heard of me, or didn't hear of me but got told about me after I had in fact died, is going to weigh in with some damn opinion or other.
Some of them are people who have treated me like shit in life, but are going to act like we were the best of friends once I'm dead.
Some of them are people who are going to pretend that they understand why I died, and try to explain it to other people, and argue endlessly over whose theory of my death is the more accurate, and the more compassionate.
Some of them are people who are going to be secure in the knowledge that my death is all about them, and tell the world how pained and soulful they are so everyone understands that my dying has many victims, but none so tragic as this particular casual acquaintance.
Some of them are going to say how sad it is that I have died, and follow that statement with "but..." so they can explain how actually it's not really all that sad.
Some of them are going to write blogs and thinkpieces explaining how really it was all my own fault. And some of them are going to write blogs and thinkpieces explaining how really it was all the fault of someone or something that by coincidence they were already writing blogs and thinkpieces about before I died.
Some of them are going to use the circumstances of my death to trigger a petition.
Some of them are going to get incredibly angry that anyone is sad about my death, when there are much SADDER things to be sad about, and isn't it just incredibly narrow-minded of us to be sad about my death?
And the point is, when I'm dead, I can't tell everyone having a public reaction to my death to go fuck themselves in their fat ugly faces. So I really have no choice but to stay alive when you think about it.
4 comments:
You forget two - 'Some of them are people who will be relieved that the endlessly dull narcissistic whining is over" and 'Most of them are people who won't care at all'
#harsh and "anonymous" *slow clap*
great piece Ben - I really enjoyed :)
No, Anonymous, I think I adequately covered the subject of people who'll be happy when I'm dead. There are quite a lot of Anonymouses around and it brings a smile to my lips to think of just how aggravating my continued existence is to you. The fact I've got the guts to use my name when I slag people off must really get you down as well, self-esteem-wise.
I admit I left out "people who won't care at all"; mainly because "I am alive because when I die most people won't care" doesn't make any fucking sense.
Long time follower, first time commenter. I stumbled upon you a long while ago when Wil Anderson tweeted a link to your blog. Just wanted to say that I love following your twitter and also that your writing about depression is perfect. I'd love it if you read my writing as well, if you're in a place to read about depression/suicidality. I know sometimes it's not good to read about it if you're not in a good place.
My twitter handle is @_laurengorman and my blog is at www.laurengorman.wordpress.com.
Feel free to share if you think it's worth sharing.
Thanks for writing and thanks for your sense of humour and your wit.
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