I've had some bad days.
I've had bad weeks.
I've had bad months.
I've had bad years.
But I can't recall a single time when I wanted to give up on life.
This is why suicide is so mystifying to me. I can't imagine being so despondent with life that the most appealing option is ending it. I feel bad that anyone feels that low, and I wish there was a way to reach them before it's too late.
That said, there have been times I've thought I was OK with dying. I've never actively planned to kill myself or even contemplated it, but I've entertained thoughts on what would happen if I passed away in my sleep or a car accident or some other random occurence. I'm pretty sure I think about it on a narcisstic level though, as in -- who would care if I wasn't here? I know a few people would miss me and be sad, but I'm pretty confident they'd get over it and move on with life. We all do, eventually, right?
While we're on the subject of death, I will admit I've thought about how my obituary will read and what my services will be like. (I'm pretty sure this is a side effect of typing up obituaries every week.) I hope whoever writes my obit will include my furry children as "survivors" and make sure to mention how much I loved the Texas Rangers, Jake Gyllenhaal and music. I hope they play Tyrone Wells' "Time of Our Lives," John Mayer's "The Heart of Life" and a good recording of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," because let's face it, my heaven is going to involve a lot of baseball-watching. I like Nick Swardson's idea of saving up some money and sending it to a random celebrity to show up at my funeral. His choice was John Stamos, which would be great (who doesn't love Uncle Jesse?.), but I think I'd go with Neil Patrick Harris or Matt Damon. That would be pretty awesome. And now I'm guessing attendance at my funeral will be pretty high ... just for the chance to see NPH or Matt.
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