Look, I'm no fool. I know there are certain things that shouldn't be posted online. The problem is that I post them anyway. Perfect example:
I've been going through a strange period, as you may know from my recent reviews and Facebook updates. My wife up and left me after 15 1/2 years together, and I've been dealing with it by hanging out with friends, going to karaoke twice a week, trying to meet new people, and drinking way too much. I'm not going to name names, but one of those four activities needs to go.
I'm not an alcoholic, understand. I only drink a couple nights a week, and never drink alone. I don't even keep any alcohol in the house. It's just that when I do drink, I drink WAY too much. No beer, no wine, just double-shot after double-shot after double-shot of vodka. So I hope that helps to explain what I did last night, and why I'm posting it here as a reminder to myself and a warning to you.
What happened is this: I was tanked at karaoke as usual, having a good old time chatting up the LAYDEEZ, dancing like a fool and singing such hits of the day as "I Can See For Miles" and "Punk Rock Girl." Things were swell and everything was just nifty. But then around 3:30 AM, two minor things happened that sent my sloshed mood into a complete tailspin. The first is that the karaoke woman snipped at me so I thought I'd done something to piss her off. The second is that the karaoke man asked me to go home, so I thought I'd done something to piss him off. As it turns out, she was pissed at him (not me), and he saw me falling asleep and didn't want me to get thrown out. But I didn't know that until today.
So I left the club, got in a cab, got home, posted on Facebook that I was about to commit suicide, opened my front door wide so my body would be found, ran the hot water in the tub, got in with a knife, tried to slice the veins in my arms open, failed because the knife was dull as dirt, posted on Facebook that I'd tried but the knife was too dull, heard the door buzzer buzz, checked it out to discover that somebody on Facebook had called 911, let the police and ambulance people in, got some clothes on, followed them out to the ambulance, and was held in a psych ward for eight hours.
So now let me tell you about what happened last night. First of all, I MISSED A NOTE in "I Can See For Miles," then I b
My point is this: I don't want to die. I didn't even want to die last night. I was simply out of control because I was so drunk. If that knife had been adequately sharp, I might be dead now -- not because I'm legitimately suicidal (I'm not! I promise! I'm feeling pretty good!), but simply because I was too drunk to realize what I was doing. I absolutely have to take this experience as a Hard Stop Warning that if I continue to deal with my grief by binge drinking twice a week, I'm going to wind up in jail, dead or worse. (an undead zombie)
So let this be a warning to you all: if you're going to kill yourself, don't post it on Facebook. It makes you look like an asshole.
http://www.markprindle.com/killinga.htm#in