Sentient Dung Beetles v. Suicide

In this video I am using, what I have now realized is the true universal language – shit. To break out of intrusive thoughts, suicidal ideation, suicidality, depression, rumination, you name it.

What if I reincarnate as a sentient dung beetle?

I’m talking my consciousness, fully aware and experiencing eating shit for whatever lifetime of that dung beetle.

An indeterminate life of consciously eating shit. Granted, that can be a fabulous title for my autobiography, and that is exactly how I get my mind to other places and spaces.

Hell, until writing this, I’ve never thought “An indeterminate life of consciously eating shit” before and now I can add that as a reason to live, something to think about other than wanting to kill myself, and now I absolutely need to write that book.

It’s really always about redirecting or questioning your mind and I have really found the most success I get is when I do not get too serious with myself. The thoughts want to get so dark or scary, intrusive thoughts make my head spin, but I do know my weird sense of humor is my armor in so many ways, and when I use that to my advantage…

I’ve written about this before and I’ve linked several of my posts talking about this bc suicidal ideation is something I’ve struggled with my whole life and it’s just… it’s not handled appropriately. It needs to be normalized, because people struggle with it so much and the hardest part is not being able to talk about it, or being scared or whatever. It’s like multiple prisons.

It’s funny cause it’s true

So how do I get out of these prisons? I think weird shit or ask weird questions. Specifically, if I’m really struggling with suicidal thoughts: I never think about the people I love or anything like that. Good lord that is a recipe for disaster. That’s just giving me more ammo to everyone being better off without, or whatever other lies and bullshit my brain is spewing at me. And at the end of the day: regardless of the struggle, your suffering is generally more your brain spewing lies and bullshit at you. Anything can be bad, but the brain will always, always do it’s best to make it worse. If you let it.

No, I’ve learned not to fight or get upset or wonder wtf is wrong with me. I simply pose the sentient dung beetle question, and I win every time.

That is to say, I don’t know what happens when I die. I used to be scared of hell but after awhile even that didn’t work because my life feels like hell. What’s the difference? Temperature? If you genuinely believe and consider the notion that “everybody who dies because of their pain and suicide was their solution goes to hell”, then I’ be in better company, wouldn’t I? Holy shit, have we lost some incredible fucking humans. So that was no beuno.

One day, I thought of something worse. Or maybe like what hell of my understanding is I don’t know. But thinking about eating literal shit for the rest of my life just immediately, egregiously sounds worse than everything. Maybe it is a literal gross oversimplification, but my brain has told me to kill myself bc my house is messy before ya know? Why be rational with irrationality?

I am tired of losing so many people eating metaphorical shit because we aren’t supposed to talk about our shit. Not for nothing, with the way things are anymore, I’d say – from the averages/mean/mathematical sense, it is probably far more normal to struggle with thoughts of suicide. I say the brightest lights are the ones dimmed by mental illness and addiction, pain hot potatoes none of us know what to do with and inevitably, asking these sorts of questions doesn’t seem unnatural or abnormal.

Finding the reason to live is not trivial, it is a life’s work. Far better than an indeterminate life of consciously eating shit* (unless we’re referring to my upcoming biopic)

Asking good questions can at least get you better answers, ya know? It’s okay if it’s not okay, but please always know, there can be a reason to stay.

*that’s mine! I’m trademarking it!

Talk to me – how do you talk to you? How do you get through this kind of shit? How are you doing? I wanna hear about you, I wanna learn about you, and I wanna thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here with me. It’s been so much fun getting back on here and all your love, support, comments, all of it just means so much. I’m glad about my blog growing just bc I get to meet so much more cool, interesting, incredible humans and yes, I’m talking about you. Thanks for everything, thanks for being you.

13 Reasons..

When I becomes We, Illness becomes Wellness

No, Seriously, Suicide is Not Selfish

13 Rules to (hopefully) not die:

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