Donovan
beer, I want beer
true story: one of the MR people I used to work with was a total care case. We had to provied all levels of toileting care, she was wheelchair bound and most of the time in a drooling state of mostly helpless vegetation. However, she had periods where she was more lucid and would hold hours-long conversations with whoever would listen or herself, talking about cars and flowers and walking, and one day she said to me, "My husband and kids don't visit."
I had no idea what she meant, but come to find out she had been a fully functioning adult with depressive issues once, then decided to jump in front of a bus. She did in fact have a husband and kids, and from then until she died ten years later I never met them.
Moral of the story is, there is always a worse state of existence than depression, and death isn't the only possible outcome of suicide. If you still get out of bed under your own power and don't require others to wipe your ass and feed you, EVERYThing else is secondary. If I ever learned anything in this field it's to stop wasting time feeling sorry for myself, because there's always somebody who would kill to have it as good as me.
I had no idea what she meant, but come to find out she had been a fully functioning adult with depressive issues once, then decided to jump in front of a bus. She did in fact have a husband and kids, and from then until she died ten years later I never met them.
Moral of the story is, there is always a worse state of existence than depression, and death isn't the only possible outcome of suicide. If you still get out of bed under your own power and don't require others to wipe your ass and feed you, EVERYThing else is secondary. If I ever learned anything in this field it's to stop wasting time feeling sorry for myself, because there's always somebody who would kill to have it as good as me.
