(Deep in the subconsciousness of man..)
I'm thinking of committing suicide.
Sweetheart, no! You can't be thinking like that!
Why not? I'm in pain. I have terrible depression.
But suicide is wrong!
But I also have cancer.
But think what it will do to us!
But I also have Parkinson's. And vulvodynia. And chronic fatigue. And ALS. And Alzheimer's is setting in. I'm dying slowly already.
But it's immoral to commit suicide.
But I'm going to be dead soon anyway. And I'm in debt. And I hate you and I hate me.
But what about the Society to Prevent Suicide and organizations like that? Our culture says suicide is unacceptable.
That means nothing to me. I'm in pain. I'm suffering.
And what about what people will think?
But these people can't help me anyway. They simply do not help me.
Well you should not, absolutely not, commit suicide.
Well I guess I'll just live with my pain and catatonic depression and suicidal thoughts and hopelessness and guilt and shame and overwhelming self-loathing and hatred and darkness and endless clouds
That's a good girl.
...
Also sweetheart, can you help me get this splinter out of my thumb? It's killing me.
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