And...
Suicide sucks. Don't do it. Just one more thought I figured I might as well share.

But I've really, really wondered sometimes, even before all of this happened with Jason... I tried to kill myself when I was ten. Ate a whole tin of sucrets and four tylenol. It's funny but horrible too. What made me so sad? I'll never know, never remember. I was very sick to my stomach but not successful at taking my own life, obviously--unless this is a far more interesting blog than you've ever guessed, ha ha. That was my most successful suicide attempt.

I DO wonder... What's it like to put the gun in your mouth? What's it like to imagine your finger pulling the trigger? I mean, with the added stimuli of the gun in your mouth, the sensation must heighten the mental movie of how it would be. Does time slow down when the bullet leaves the gun and zips through the space between the muzzle and the roof of your mouth? Does your brain have a moment of "holy fuck" time? And if your mind does slow time, do you feel the slug rip through your tissues? Do you feel the power go out of your arms? Do you taste the blood as you lay in the backyard and die?