The Bridge

I read a story once of a man who was living in San Francisco. He committed suicide by throwing himself off of the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco Bay.

Later, when the police and medical examiners were gathering up the man's personal belongings at his apartment, they found a handwritten note on his bureau:

"I'm going to walk to the bridge. If one person smiles at me on the way, I will not jump."

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In November of this year, I sat on a bridge in Wisconsin with a gun in my hand. I sat there on the bridge for at least an hour. At least a dozen people walked past me in that time.

Not one of them tried to stop me.

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Here's to the new year. May she be a damned sight better than the old one.

Germany?

Ahoy, boys and girls. Captain Panda back again, after a good long hiatus from blogging.

Thanks, Webster...

For those of you that pay attention to me on Ye Olde Book of Faces, you'll know that...well...shit has been going down these past few weeks. I spent a little time in the hospital for suicidal tendencies, and I've been kind of on a slope downward since then.

I would go deeper into what it was that sent me to this place, but I don't really think that the one guy in Germany who reads my blog needs to know that. If you really want to know, you'll have to ask directly.

Deutschland? Ernst? Wer liest meinen Blog in Deutschland?

So, anyway, there's that. Crap's been happening. And you know, there's something that makes it a whole lot worse:

Back when I posted initially about the, well, 'incident' that put me in the hospital, there were a lot of people out there that came out of the woodwork and offered words of support and encouragement and, well, just general caring. And it helped a great deal, and for those of you that did, thank you all. I appreciate every single one of you beyond words.

However, there's something of a trend that I've observed: every single one of those people who offered their support has someone very special to them in their lives. Husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, etc.

And I don't have that.

Now, like I said, I'm not discounting them at all. I'm very grateful for all of it. But it's a lot easier to say that things will get better when you have someone like that standing by your side.

...what? No...*sigh*

Since the incident, I've really wanted nothing more than someone to talk to, and someone who would listen without pretense. Not even necessarily romantically (though it would be nice) more like a best friend, someone that I can call at 3 in the morning and talk to about anything and everything. A lot of people have offered that I can talk to them, but no one really knows me that well. It's awkward for me to talk to people about such personal things anyway, let alone someone who really doesn't know me.

Which, I suppose is part of the reason that it got so bad in the first place. Nobody to really talk to, so I internalize it. And that's not healthy.

So, I'm not sure of where I'll get to in the near future. I hope I'll be better, but I really don't know. Will I find a best friend? Will I find love? Will I overcome the demons that haunt me? Find out next time on...

What? No, dammit. I mean "Eats Shoots and Leaves." This blog thing that I do. Stupid dramatic side.

Until next time, boys and girls.

Also, seriously, who is reading my blog in Germany?