This is part of a month long series on depression. Every doctor and many nurses at the ER and then the hospital asked if I had a plan to carry out suicide. My primary physician had asked me as well...

I do have a plan, several plans in fact, but they are all bad ones, thank God.

Each plan has a downside which completely f's up risk and reward. The plans themselves have downsides I mean. Of course the outcome, should I succeed, which I often do at things I try, would be the worst possible outcome to depression, for me and everyone I love.

The downsides of the plans themselves are these...

I do not want to smash Eleanor, our new van.

I do not want to use a medication that has brought peace and closure and beautiful moments to so many families with pets.

And finally, I do not want to barf.

When you have a plan, shit gets serious.

When you have several well thought out plans, they hospitalize you, thank God.

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Post from one year ago today...

September 6, 2016

TWITTER, PART 1 OF 8, GETTING STARTED

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Next month is a happier topic. I will post all of the pictures you send.

FinchDVM 10070.jpg

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