It has been awhile. I did not think the following was appropriate to post during the holidays. I think it needs to be said though.
Every time someone brings up that our profession has one of the highest rates of suicide, you might think: "Not our department. Not my friends. Not here. Maybe some department 500 miles away of people I don't know."
And then one day someone wakes you out of a dead sleep and sends you flying headfirst out of your little land of denial. It is your department. He was your friend. You do know him, his family and all of the co workers. You spend about two weeks wrestling the question that won't leave: "What the hell did I miss?" Along with a few others. "Why didn't he talk to me?" "What could I have done?"
Eventually you start to understand that it was their choice that they made. Maybe you'll always have those questions unanswered.
If you find yourself in that deep dark place that you cannot escape . . . please, I beg you, come talk to me. Please. Please talk to me.
The diagnosis on Lucille was bad yesterday. Apparently, city potholes bent every rim on the car. Instead of buying new rims, they are sending them off to b...
1 week ago