Sherrie Lee wrote:
> On Mar 23, 7:12 pm, "George Dance" wrote:
>
>>On Mar 23, 4:56 pm, "Sherrie Lee"
yahoo.com> wrote:>
>
>
> [...]
>
>
>
>>>The You I used was the more than one You which included you.
>>>The suicide I meant was what happens if "one" (I know, I said "you")
>>>goes one step further. I'm seeing the abyss not as simply letting go
>>>to let death happen as in when a long illness ends in death; I'm
>>>seeing
>>>it as the final step when a person takes their own life, to the end
>>>of some perceived trauma. Maybe it's no different, for example, maybe
>>>the people who jumped out of the Towers at the WTC were going to die
>>>within a matter of minutes, regardless.
The choice was between being Superman for a few seconds or burning to
death. (And a few seD so on their cells.)
Those who jump from burning buildings are not suicides; they're
playing the microchances for survival, as some really goofy long
falls have been survived.
>>
>>OK. In that case, it's important for me to go back and underline the
>>possiblity you were offering me as an antidote to suicide: individual
>>creativity. If a person can see themselves as making a difference to
>>reality, in some way, that's powerful medicine to restore the
>>connection with reality and the will to live.
>
It is in fact the /want/ of that "making a difference," i.e., having
an /effect/, that leads directly to depression and suicide, Do Not
Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200.
It's an awful trVth, but the suicide artists have all in some
sense been wannabes who Didn't Get.
>
> You, (me) and Dennis ought to get together and write a script for a
> movie.
>
> It's probably already been written, but the movie would be on the
> subject of Time Travel.
Why? Everybody's is different.
"Time" exists only in the head (observation space), as the
"fourth" dimension that allows "choice" as the "fifth" (in that parade).
I.e., "time" travel stories are never "about" time travel, but
about alternative choices.
I.e., /every/ work of fiction is a "time"-travel story in being a
choice-travel story.
...
>
>>>I saw it reported that Teasdale committed suicide. There is always a
>>>question of validity of reports. I note your flame/troll statement
>>>below.
>>
>>I read somewhere about a poet who was passionately in love with
>>Teasdale, and who proposed to her twice; she turned him down both
>>times. She committed suicide a couple of months after he died. But,
>>of course, it's only other people's speculation connects that those
>>events; only Teasdale knew why she did it.
>
>
> Sounds like she didn't leave a suicide note.
>
She took a bottle of pillZ and fell asleep in a warm tub before she
could even use the razor, let alone the pen.
There's a degree of self-loathing in going for a triple crown, not
found in most mere quits.
One wonders what she really thought of herself, and thus of her
own pomes.
>
> [...]
>
>
>
>>>When you feel vicariously, how does it feel to you?
>>
>>Strongly. I can watch a movie that I've watched 100 times, and get
>>tears in my eyes, as strongly as the first time. But another part of
>>me knows I'm not experienceing that, but only watching it; I can feel
>>the emotion without feeling a threat.
>
>
> the threat. I wonder if feeling the emotion is what PTSD sufferers are
> feeling when triggered.
The emotion triggers the PTSD.
PTSD is the really-scary recognition that you didn't have a damned
thing to do with your surviving the trauma, that the First Rule of
Combat is "Shit Happens."
PTSD couldn't happen without the recognition that the enemy (or
Abyss) are still out there, that you survived only your little piece
of the war (or Abyss). You're sitting there, looking at that while
looking at the fact that /you/ didn't survive it, "shit" did.
Not fun.
But it requires more than a tad of paranoia coupled with
challenged math.
The flashback is always another attempt to quit being a wannabe by
going back to figure out how to Fix the Effect you failed to have the
first time.
There's no fix for Shit Happens.
Thus, a common alternative is suicide.
Jarrell is seD to have stepped in front of that bus. The Coronor
(we) will never know, but consider this line:
"When I died, they washed me out of the turret with a hose."
He /knew/ that total, zeroed-out failure in the face of Happening Shit.
/He/ lived to fight again another day (he was a traffic
controller, not aircrew, but had to listen to the "chatter" of the
ones who /almost/ made it back to the field).
But then he had to deliver that lead gift in the twilight...
>
> no threat exists (no one's sticking a gun to their heads), but they
> feel as though they're going to die
> when they hear fireworks. what makes it different? it's all in the
> head in both situations, except,
> the gun, which isn't because they're still alive. but they can never
> enjoy fireworks like you or me (I can).
>
> take the words away and make it algebraic; unless, it already is.
> something was "stolen" from them.
Their sense of being "Men, Men, Manly-Men, Men, Men," who are so
easily played by a twit, a fairy, and a fat brat.
But, you see, if it can be "taken," it never existed; what was
taken was the pretense, the maintained fantasy, i.e., the maintenance.
>
>>>>"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
>>>>Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
>>>>The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
>>>>The ceremony of innocence is drowned"
>>>>(Yeats, The Second Coming)
>>
>>>>Pretty powerful stuff, but I don't think it showed any desire on
>>>>Yeats' part to commit suicide. Nor, when I quote or speak about
>>>>things like that, does it indicate any desire on my part to commit
>>>>suicide.
>>
>>>When you say "pretty powerful stuff", how is it powerful?
Global Happening (an inconvenient and shitty trVth).
>>
>>(It ssounds like someone who's losing it; 'it' being both faith, in
>>anything, and also self-control. IIt's a peek at inanity: I can
>>sense that, without worrying about losing control myself (or even
>>worrying whether Yeats was losing control.)
>
Even if Yeats lost control (and his voice seZ he never did), he had
Excuses: the world was full of Mystic Shit it was /nobody's/ fault
or loss of control if it Happened.
The Great Face over the Playpen is a /demon/ (q.v.) whose sole
function is to Shit in the Rules to our Benefit.
And the biggest single Benefit is that the Shitting is /Its/ Fault.
And Therefore No Reflection on our Manly Man-ness.
A solder /able/ to return to that playpen /never/ has PTSD.
>
> and so a PTSD sufferer can hang on by keeping self-control in
> situations where others needn't be as self-conscious, if at all.
>
Usually by avoidance (as w/fireworks, a.s.), which ultimately never
works.
Because Shit still Happens.
>
>>>Then maybe meaning = significance. No meaning = no significance.
>>
>>>And what is the fact? Is it a fact that Life is first not significant,
>>>then significance is constructed/attached?
>>
>>I think that is a fact of our 'official reality'; and that people who
>>think otherwise, and still believe in the older type of 'official
>>reality' that should be learned and not constructed - the born-agains,
>>and all the other religious of every kind - are increasingly seen as
>>abnormal, and even slightly insane.
>
>
> they're (we're) hanging on to a self-conscious that's almost not even
> conscious of itself. now that's whacked!
>
They're outside the Official Circlesuck, which maintains the Official
Version by Touching Each Other rather than by Touching The Earth.
Now, /that's/ whacked.
>
>
>>Yes, it is part of our 'official reality' that meaning is constructed,
>>and does not exist "in itself" (mind-independently or objectively).
>>That's really what I meant by "nowadays, we live squarely in" the
>>Abyss. But we cope with it, because that's how it is; and it's
>>possible for any of us to see the positive in that.
>
>
> the PTSD sufferer still goes to the fireworks show b/c his kid enjoys
> it, and he likes seeing his kid experience crackling and colorful
> lights in the sky.
>
And nobody'll ever know what he pays for the trip.
Because if he's one of the ones who goes, he'll never tell.
Maybe he couldn't be a Good Sojer /then/, but by God he can be one
now...
