Suicide blonde

I do hope the last entry didn't completely freak you out. I have had my share of mental dysfunctionality and have indeed contemplated just ending it all. But have no fear, turned out I'm just too lazy for that (too).

Everyday is a struggle to keep myself together, I'll give you that. And Chelsea winning that Champions League trophy didn't exactly increase the quality of my life. And I am soooo tired of trying. Trying to stay positive, trying to get over The Man, trying to stay motivated in the job hunt, trying to focus on improving myself by learning new languages, doing research for articles no-one pays for and volunteering for people who disrespect me. But really, how would I even go about it?

I always assumed that slitting my wrists open would be my method of choice, seeing how I have a history of self-harming anyway. But I could never cut deep enough. And I don't even have a bath tub where to do it in; not just for the theatrical effect but for the tidiness. Just imagine the mess! No, that's not for me.

Hanging myself somehow seems so.. 1800's. And I'm too short to even tie the noose  anywhere near high enough. And I heard somewhere that people being hung tend to... well... go on themselves before they die. And I can't be found dead AND covered in shit. I can't have my neighbours think I'm some kind of a slob! Oh, no.

And here's the irony: I used to be a girl-scout. You know, a bona fide knot-tying, camping , star-navigating girl scout. But I wouldn't even know how to tie a noose...

Then there's poison. As much as I have flair for drama, that might be a tad too Disney's evil step-motherish. And anyway, where would I even get poison? I don't think you can just walk into your local pharmacy in search of it. Just imagine the dialogue:

.......

Me: What kind of poisons do you stock?

The pharmacist: A rather extensive variety indeed. Do you prefer European varieties or the New World ones? We also have some interesting South African ones that are now in season; simply wonderful bouquet!

Me: erm... I'd prefer some lethal kind.

The pharmacist: Ah, I see. May I inquire what you had intended to consume the poison with? Fish or meat?

Me: I'm thinking of killing myself.

.......

I suppose I could throw myself under a bus. But that's somehow so...common. I mean, never even take the bus! And there's a chance you'll survive. Paralyzed from the neck down. That would be even nastier than the life I have now. At least now I'm capable of making sure my toes are always kitted out with French pedicure.

And sometimes you escape unscathed. One of the drunks in my neighbourhood fell under the tram. Somehow he only managed to get his foot lodged between the rail and the pavement and actually walked away, in one piece. Only to find his sorry mug plastered all over the morning papers (those damn camera phones...). Now, that's just plain embarrassing...

The most effective way would probably be the good old gun. But obviously I don't just happen to have a spare one idly lying around. I'd have to apply for a license first. And along with the application I should submit a thorough account explaining exactly why I need a gun. Somehow I don't think "in order to kill myself" would fly with them.

So there you have it. I might be struggling to stay afloat in this endless sea of depression, but I'm not ready to drown just yet...