Did I mention I have ADD? True Story...

My Therapist describes suicide as homicide turned inward.

This tickled me.

Because usually when I'm feeling like killing myself I'm not in an angry place, but rather a hopeless one.  But she says there's anger there.  Crime of passion.

I couldn't help the smile that stole accross my face.  Then, naturally, realizing that such behavior was grossly inappropriate, I felt compelled to explain my mirth.

"There's an old movie, from the sixties--" I say, feeling very much as though I'm a snarky character in an Aaron Sorkin show.  "--its a spoof on detective, on mystery books, Neil Simon, its a great little piece--"  I say, wondering if I've been watching too much West Wing, and wishing Mr. Sorkin would please write again after the abysmal led balloon of Studio 60.  "Anyway, there's this great line;  They go:  "This is the room where Mrs. Twain murdered herself, all those years ago..."  My therapist looks bemused, but, being a well trained and exceptionally good therapist, holds her tongue and lets me ride this thought train to the station.  "So the other guy goes:  'Don't you mean suicide?'"  I chuckle, remembering the next line:  "And he replies: 'Oh, no; it was murder alright.  Mrs. Twain hated herself very much."

To the woman's credit she took it in good humor and even continued on unruffled, as if I hadn't just poked fun at a thing she makes her living curing.  

And maybe, just maybe the next time I feel like offing myself I'll think of Neil Simon's droll tongue-in-cheek wit and Obiwan Kenobi as the blind butler from one of my childhood favorites Murder by Death.

Yeah...I was a weird kid...

And then, as Julie Fucking Andrews once sang: "Then I won't feeeeeeeeeeeeeel soooo baaaaaaaad!!!!"