... But let it be. Horatio, I am dead; Thou livest; report me and my
cause aright To the unsatisfied. Never believe it: I am more an antique
Roman than a Dane:Here's yet some liquor left. As thou'rt a man, Give me
the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll hav...
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... But let it be. Horatio, I am dead; Thou livest; report me and my
cause aright To the unsatisfied. Never believe it: I am more an antique
Roman than a Dane:Here's yet some liquor left. As thou'rt a man, Give me
the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't. O good Horatio, what a wounded
name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me! If thou didst
ever hold me in thy heart Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this
harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story. Hamlet For those
who follow these post, you might know that my dear son Nick hastened
into this god night. Well, it is now almost 6 months ago, but only last
night. But I feel cursed. Suicide seems a family trait.My father. my
son, others. These past few months have been as bad as you can imagine.
Oh, I have a few supportive friends, a partner who tolerates and cares
for me in equal measure and doctors who are wise in when to express
sympathy and when to challenge. Most others are useless. My bosses way
of support was to advise that they didn't feel I'm "a good fit" at this
time. I little cared. We maddies are use to platitudes. Anyway, I'm
posting this by way of reassuring BB online monitors, who I feared
interpreted a previous post that I may be suicidal. To praraphrase one
of my favourite TV shows Sling and Arrows, when the lead character
Geoffory Tennant is ask by a Police Officer after a pub brawl if he is a
suicide risk, he quibs "isn't everybody" But for myself,I'm more like
Haratio than Hamlet. I wish I wasn't. And there are never gurrantees. My
doctor finds it acceptable that I've no wish to add to his gallery of
the dead but it is a professional hazard. He sort to reassure me that my
father and son would have been in a dissociatiated state when they died.
I'm not completely convinced. I certainly reserve it for myself to die I
chose clear headed. But we have a safety plan; I report in, take my
medication, follow advice and stay away from dangerous locations. I find
solance is Ophelia's lament. "And will he not come again? And will he
not come again? No, no, he is dead: Go to thy death-bed: He never will
come again. His beard was as white as snow, All flaxen was his poll: He
is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan: God ha' mercy on his soul!
And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God be wi' ye." Anyway, allow me
m pain. It tells me Nick was alive and I loved him. Its my journey and I
would wish anyone else to join me. .