You know, every time I tell a story like the one I told yesterday about my brother, I'm surprised by the reactions. I think I finally figured out why. Now, run with me on this . . .

I've been involved in a lot of therapy in my life (yeah, yeah) but the majority has taken place over the past year. In fact, last year at this time I was participating in a 13 week outpatient therapy group with a bunch of other suicidal maniacs (You know who you are). We weren't really maniacs; we were . . . pathetic! We each had a different reasons for trying to end our lives, we were of different races and religions, some were addicts, some had never taken a drug in his life, but we all had that 1 thing in common--attempted suicide. Hey! it reminds me of Sandman's snowflake story! We were each different, but we were all snowflakes made from the same stuff. Hmmm. maybe not the best analogy. Anyway, each time I heard one of my fellow flakes' stories, I'd think, "Jesus tap-dancing Christ! and I thought I had problems." (oops. Sorry Mark and Genie) And as we sat in group we would sometimes want to swap problems, or fix each other. We all seemed to know how to fix the other persons' problems, probably because it shifted the spotlight. Actually, sometimes it felt like an interrogation light. I hated those guys sometimes. They wouldn't let me make jokes about my problems and never seemed satisfied until they could make me cry. Creeps--especially Bill the therapist. But I digress.

I think the thing that will probably keep me going until I die of natural causes (from my lips to God's ear. Uh-oh. Katie's fuming) is remembering that stuff never stays bad permanently. I know you can think of a dozen cliches' to cover this topic, but a creative writing teacher once told me to avoid cliches' like the plague. Snark.

So, in closing, let me say to any and all who read the story of my brother's death and were moved by it: Thank you, I very much appreciate it, and so would Jon, even though he never wanted to stick around anyway. And ironically, at some point during the years before he died he said to me,"Listen, if you ever find me laying dead somewhere, just put me in a trash bag and set me out on the curb."

Must go find a picture to make you laugh.