If someone were to die at the age of 63 after a lifelong battle with MS or Sickle Cell, we’d all say they were a “fighter” or an “inspiration.” But when someone dies after a lifelong battle with severe mental illness and drug addiction, we say it was a tragedy and tell everyone “don’t be like him, please seek help.” That’s bullshit. Robin Williams sought help his entire life. He saw a psychiatrist. He quit drinking. He went to rehab. He did this for decades. That’s HOW he made it to 63. For some people, 63 is a fucking miracle. I know several people who didn’t make it past 23 and I’d do anything to have 40 more years with them.
You’re not thinking clearly. Your mind is clouded with regret, bourbon, or both. You may not actually feel what you think you’re feeling. Allow time to pass before you make any rash decisions, like cutting your hair (don’t) or fucking your best friend (don’t) or getting a tattoo of a Phoenix rising from the ashes to, like celebrate you rising from the ashes of your former relationship (dear God, please don’t).
Ugh. Looking at your blog makes me think about going far places so much that I get distracted for hours, which makes me not want to work (which is actually good) resulting in me not really working (well not so good).
Ah. Thank you. I’m back at The blog after a long hiatus and this is exactly the kind of message I needed to get me going again…