Today I read a comment, directed at me, but said to the wrong person.
It’s why I haven’t written in a long, long time.
It’s why I will stop again.
It’s why I don’t tell people a lot about myself, because I know, statistically, it’s very unusual. I am a statistical anomaly. Universities wanted my genes. I said no.
I have been alone on the planet since I was 24. All of my family had died and I had buried them. You cannot imagine what it is like to be in a world where there is not one door to knock on, that has to take you in, until you have lived it.
Lightning indeed strikes more than once. I lost my husband too.
I only wrote about 3 suicides, but that is not all there were.
I will not write about it again from this point forth, for this one comment, that a lot of people think but only a few have the balls to print. Those who have never lost anyone to suicide. Those whose blood is icier than liquid nitrogen.
The comment?
‘No wonder everyone around you killed themselves’
You evil, evil, bitch. Your time is coming. But mine is over.
