Suicide Is Not A Blot On Anyone’s

Suicide Is A Particularly Awful Way To Die: The Mental Suffering Leading Up To It Is Usually Prolonged, Intense And Unpalliated. There Is No Morphine Equivalent To Ease The Acute Pain, And Death, Not Uncommonly, Is Violent And Grisly. The Suffering Of A Suicidal Is Private And Inexpressible, Leaving Family Members, Friends And Colleagues To Deal With An Almost Unfathomable Kind Of Loss, As Well As Guilt. Suicide Carries In Its Aftermath A Level Of Confusion And Devastation That Is, For The Most Part, Beyond Description.

The Quickness And Flexibility Of A Well Mind, A Belief Or Hope That Things Will Eventually Sort Themselves Out-these Are The Resources Lost To A Person When The Brain Is Ill.

No Pill Can Help Me Deal With The Problem Of Not Wanting To Take Pills; Likewise, No Amount Of Psychotherapy Alone Can Prevent My Manias And Depressions. I Need Both. It Is An Odd Thing, Owing Life To Pills, One's Own Quirks And Tenacities, And This Unique, Strange, And Ultimately Profound Relationship Called Psychotherapy

There Are Relatively Few Things That Kill People That Are Young Other Than Car Accidents And Suicide.

Nothing Good Comes Out Of Depression.