“Pain demands to be felt.”
– The Fault in Our Stars by John Green
Trigger Warning: Suicide
My Easter Sunday post is titled Good Sunday as a reference to Good Friday, which is celebrated by many Christians, especially Catholics. I am an ex-Catholic, now agnostic. On 4/9/23, the same day they were born, my friend Ceylon committed suicide. They died on Easter, when Christians celebrate that their savior was risen. It hurt to think that while Ceylon was in Turkey dying, people all over the world were celebrating life and rebirth and didn’t even notice. But I did notice.
I didn’t know him for long. Exactly a week as of today. But a smaller infinity is still an infinity I guess. Kudos to anyone who got that reference.
It hurt to get attached and then have to let go so soon. It hurt to only have a week to talk to such a kind, empathetic person. It was worth it, though. They were worth it. Everyone has a deadline, Ceylon’s was just sooner and I knew that meant getting to know them was a limited time offer.
Last month, I subscribed to the subreddit Suicide Watch. At first I was so overwhelmed by the endless thread of misery contained therein, but after a couple weeks I learned to stay on my home page for Reddit. Suicide Watch posts showed up there, but they were no longer the only posts I saw. Out of the ones that showed up in my feed, I selected as many as I could handle and responded after carefully reading what the suicidal person said. I tried to focus on the individual person, even while I mentioned my own experiences in order to connect with them better.
I was appalled at the other comments people made to those posts, usually. Empty promises that things would get better, lazy attempts at evangelism, guilt-tripping suicidal people into living so their family would not be sad about their death.
It is never appropriate for family and friends not to show they care until someone is suicidal. It is unacceptable for them to demand a suicidal person continue living in misery without emotional support or empathy or resources of any kind. People will euthanize beloved pets to prevent gratuitous suffering, but they will guilt suicidal people into living like zombies so that no one else has to mourn or pay for the funeral. Then the suicidal person is called selfish for not wanting to be alive.
Everyone should have the right to do what they want with their life, with obvious exceptions. I am not condoning serial killers or homophobes, for example. But everyone should have the right to make basic life choices, even if their choice is to end their life.
I’m not saying that you shouldn’t reach out to suicidal people or offer support. But the only helpful way to do so is by empathizing, listening, and providing other forms of support, including financial if that is relevant to their situation and you can afford it.
The solution is not always “just get a therapist.” Think about it. For one thing, therapists are expensive and not everyone is going to be able to afford them. Many average $100 a session. Assume though a suicidal person can afford a therapy appointment once a week, which is $400 a month and $4800 a year. Fine. They can talk to a person who is paid to listen to them and suggest solutions for an hour-long session, 4 times a month. Is that really a substitute for having actual friends? Does that make up for having a toxic, abusive family? Does the $4800 they spent on therapy sessions make them feel better about living paycheck to paycheck, paying loans with loans, falling behind on rent, drowning in debt, etc? Therapy is fine and good but it is never enough.
Ceylon died yesterday, on Easter. I’ve sent multiple messages over the last couple days with no response and I believe that to be true. He wrote a last goodbye on Reddit that was only a sentence, the day before Easter. It said that tomorrow was the big day.
I lost my friend, but while we were sending messages between Turkey and the United States, they suggested that I post our conversation on Socially Unacceptable. They hoped that one of their last conversations would help someone else, someone who was not too far gone.
Ceylon is not his real name. They asked me to choose one, and to choose pronouns. I chose gender-neutral pronouns, and settled for the name Ceylon for a few reasons. One reason is that I love names that end with the letter “n” and have no idea why. The other reason is that it is listed online as a Turkish name, but it means “from Sri Lanka.” Which is not accurate in the least, but matches the dorky sarcastic humor we used as we joked about American knowledge of geography and stereotypes about people who live in Turkey. It’s an intentionally wrong choice meant to highlight how people in the rich, capitalistic powerhouse countries like the U.S. and Britain and France treat people in other countries. I think Ceylon would have appreciated my sarcasm and that it would have at least elicited an eye roll and a chuckle from him.
Ceylon private messaged me after I responded to his post on Suicide Watch, and below is our conversation. Sarcastic conversations between an asexual schizophrenic and a libidinous dead friend, as I promised to call it. I really wanted to publish it on Easter, but I have been up all night and have finally finished this. I had to put all the messages in order because Reddit put everything in a weird order.
Ceylon: Thank you for your kind words and I am sure it is very nice to have someone like you. Your friends are very lucky. Unfortunately, I have already made that decision. I lost everything and I don’t have the strength, the opportunity and the financial means to rebuild. I tried to make money, but I didn’t meet good people. For example, I have money to pay this week, but I won’t be able to pay it. No one will ask you about it when you die. That’s why I’m comfortable. As I said, I would like to meet someone like you in real life. I hope life will always be good to you.
Me: Of course. The offer will always stand, but I understand. I’m sorry.
Ceylon: No, please don’t say I’m sorry. You’re a strong person. I think the world needs you more.
Me: Not strong, really. I legitimately almost died of dust allergies yesterday. My throat and nose clogged up and I couldn’t move and I typed out a short goodbye to my partner as my last words. I told her to please heal if she could. I told her I didn’t want to leave her and was trying to hold on. I skipped an obituary and will and just wrote a note for the one person in my life who ever showed she cared. She found me barely in time and dragged me out. I guzzled Dayquil because the doctor I went to said I was just anxious and gave me a prescription for a mild anxiety med and a nasal spray, and managed to survive by staying up 48 hours until falling asleep wouldn’t have just led to suffocation. I am fragile. I was almost killed by dust. By not cleaning fast enough because I was worried about income and focused on figuring out self-employment. I have no idea how I am alive still and no idea how long I will be. My partner is disabled too and we’re flat out broke but we’ve decided to stick together and face what comes. I told my partner that if I ever die from dust of all things I am going to spend the afterlife I have before she shows up killing off major deities one by one. Because if they think that that is fair, killing someone like that after they have only started getting better at all a few months ago, then they are twisted and evil enough to deserve the death penalty. Promise I’m not violent, but oh my god. Dust?! Dust? A schizophrenic with PTSD, depression, and anxiety and dust is my most fatal flaw? It doesn’t matter if the world needs me, in the end because either people don’t trust me because they think I sound “too nice” or because they have heard of schizophrenia. They are afraid of me, when I will have trauma responses and curl into a tiny scared ball if I feel too much emotion. Any emotion. Like happiness. Excitement. Sadness. I joked that my partner and I are both magnets. The more she unmasks, the more people are attracted to her. The more I unmask, the more people are repelled. But hey, I guess it works. We’re opposite poles of a magnet and we attracted each other. Sorry I’m rambling. I’m just tired.
Ceylon: I’ll do what I can until you get here and leave you some. I don’t know what it’s like to have a partner. I haven’t had one in a long time. I don’t like people very much. In fact, if I could find a solution to kill everyone at the same time, I could rid the world of this filth. I’ve tried to fool myself even though I know this world is not real, but I can’t fool myself anymore. Everyone is born alone and everyone loves themselves the most. If you saw the houses I live in, you would wonder if anyone really lives here. I always had enough stuff to take my bag and leave. One day I left home and lived on the street for a year. If I went to a psychiatrist, who knows what diseases he would whisper to me. As I said, I know this world is not real, but the brain is such a thing that it knows you better than you know yourself and its defense mechanism is quite strong. I took pills, threw up and went to work the next day. Maybe if I had some money I would try again. Right now I have nothing. Still, it’s nice to have someone there to support you. I don’t want a funeral. I want them to cremate my body if possible, but I know no one will do that. Even my own room doesn’t belong to me. There’s no sign of life in it. You’re not rambling.
Me: You should definitely start with the Christian deity. Three for the price of one. I have a grudge against that one. If you wish to kill everyone, I would prefer you leave out me and my partner since we have gotten a bit attached to the hellhole called Earth and have decided to go down fighting to fix it. I have always been called stupid and gullible but hey, I am stubborn. I don’t love myself the most. I never did. I hated the fuck out of myself for 23 years before I developed a wisp of self esteem that can be put out by a breeze. I’m 24 and I have only not been suicidal for like….4 months? I have almost no material possessions that are just mine since I went on vacation to Florida to meet my partner for the first time in person. But a fucking hurricane hit us directly three days into the vacation. One hadn’t hit that area of Florida directly since 2004. It waited for me. I only delayed the trip until then because I caught Covid a week before the trip. My flight to Pennsylvania got canceled because hurricane and then I just….never rescheduled it. My parents have 95% of my belongings and will not send them. Then I cut them off with the rest of my toxic family. So now it’s me and her, and a bunch of friends who can’t be relied on in emergencies because they are so depressed and financially unstable themselves.
Ceylon: I’ll keep that in mind. Since the Greek gods are a bit overcrowded, I think I can spend the acclimatization period with this trio. I didn’t get vaccinated during the Covid period. It was like carte blanche for me, but I’m healthy as a pig. Sometimes I wonder what was my motivation to come first among all that sperm. When I was teenager I used to feel special, I used to think there was a reason why I came into the world. Then when I found out that there are 2 trillion galaxies in the universe, it was easy to realize that it wasn’t. Our financial successes really brought tears to my eyes. April 9th is my birthday. Is it really only me who likes the fact that on my tombstone my birth and death date will be on the same day? I read an article yesterday about a man who wrote his suicide notes. After he died, a friend of his turned them into a book and it was a bestseller for weeks. I think it was in Japan. It sums up my luck in life. I think you might have smiled a little bit at that story.
Me: Oh but there’s a long hit list. If you have extra time before I am also dead, may I recommend Zeus and Hera? The greek gods are super crowded. Also, definitely Thor because he is an asshole. I got vaccinated with two shots and a booster and still got Covid because my father brought it back from a conference. My parents said they didn’t want me to have premarital sex because I was the worst mistake they ever made and they didn’t want me to have the same regrets. My partner says my suicide journal is practically slam poetry, so it could probably be a best seller. I did smile, because my luck is shit. Time to down more of that horrific honey-flavored Dayquil. Why. Just why. It’s not honey-flavored. It’s a drop of diluted honey in a bottle of laundry detergent. It’s hell juice. It reminded me that honey is in fact, bee vomit. I think they must have accidentally put ant poison in that bottle instead of medicine. My partner sniffed it from six inches away and the faces she made, poor thing. I hate this stuff. Hate it. It is the worst thing I have ever put in my mouth. But is kept me alive and I am immune to Benedryl and fexofenadine, and Claritin did nothing. Maybe it was made this way to prevent children from touching meds. If children tasted it they would have a meltdown and never touch honey or think of honey without shuddering again. I know it’s the least of my problems but why. They always have the pills at the pharmacy, but when I needed them there was this abomination. I can’t imagine how horrible the orange-flavored one must be.
Ceylon: When I was a kid, there was a little brown pill in the house that tasted like chocolate. To this day I don’t know what it was for, but I would take a few whenever I could. I swallowed about 100 pills with psychotic drugs, sleeping pills and painkillers. Nothing happened because I was a real Survivor. I just remember getting tired quickly for a while. Then I threw up. Now I have an extremely sensitive nose to the smell of drugs. Actually, I have a high libido. That’s why you should make love whenever you can. It’s like a free amusement park. I haven’t had many long-term relationships. I think I like dating more. I never wanted to have children. I like children a bit, but I don’t want to live in the same house with a child and a woman all the time. Maybe I don’t kill a few bad gods just to keep from getting bored. The good ones are boring. If I were a god, I think I’d be evil too. Infinite goodness would drive me crazy.
Ceylon: I guess I won’t have one last fuck. Imagine if someone called you and said I’m going to die this week and I want to have sex one last time. I don’t think it would be acceptable if they asked if you were available.
Me: Oh gods I used to take 7 meds daily and they didn’t help, but my parents liked me better when I was sedated. I have survived so many overdoses. Make love whenever I can. Ugh. I thought I was a sex-repulsed asexual, but apparently it takes 6 months of knowing a person for my sexual attraction to kick in. And my sex drive is usually tiny. I do enjoy sex with my partner, now that I have figured out I am very demisexual. I need a strong emotional attachment and incredible amount of trust to even consider it. Nothing’s wrong with me that way. I’m asexual. It’s not a medical problem. There’s a lot of asexuals but only 1% of the population. Just 1% of 7.8 billion people, such a small number. Same as the schizophrenics. Ironically I also fit into the aromantic spectrum. The people who can’t feel romantic attraction until an emotional bond and trust is established. But that kicked in after a week of knowing my partner, and for her it was 3 months. I don’t like amusement parks. Sex can be fun. Like watching a movie with my partner. Or cuddling. Or chores together. Or 5 hour chats. 1% of the population is asexual, 1% is aromantic, 1% is schizophrenic, and 5% are transgender or non-binary. I am probably completely unique. I used to want children but I don’t anymore. I am not able to be a good enough parent and be present enough. I have trouble enough keeping me alive. You’d think it would make it easier to not have to deal with sexual and romantic attraction until after commitment is already more likely, but it just means everyone treated me as defective and tried to force me into relationships and sex. Plus my partner is female so that’s a whole additional way I’m socially unacceptable. I write my autobiography on my website and that’s what I named it. Socially Unacceptable. It’s a play off the schizophrenia quote I hate the most. There’s plenty of ways I can show my partner I love her without sex, anyway. We went into the relationship expecting never to have sex.
Me: Idk. I mean prostitutes are a thing I guess but expensive. I mean I wouldn’t be offended if someone asked if I was available sexually. I would just say no. I am monogamous and it takes 6 months of daily interaction before I am comfortable even cautiously trying sex. I have a fiancée and it’s an exclusive relationship. Sex is…different for me. It’s enjoyable, but I mostly consider it a bonding experience and intimacy that I reserve for one person. If they were dying it wouldn’t change that. I told my partner I wouldn’t martyr myself for other people anymore. I would help but not if it hurt me. And having sex with someone I didn’t 100% trust and love would cause PTSD issues. Flashbacks and shit. People will do hook-ups and one-night stands but that’s not really me.
Ceylon: I’ve never paid for sex in my life and I never will. Even if it’s the last time. I am not asexual and I don’t want to be, but easy sex shortens the duration of a relationship. The most peaceful relationship I ever had was a fuckbuddy. It lasted 6 months and it was like a dream. You know you are there to have fun together and make love. You don’t have someone texting you all the time, calling you on the phone, trying to change you. I think sex is something that’s overrated and given too much meaning. I mean, if you want to drink water, you drink water. You don’t think why am I drinking water now? Anyway, I guess I won’t have that problem anymore. I can leave without having sex, no problem. I think you’re very lucky with your partner. I don’t do anything for the good of others. I think the first thing children should be taught is to say no. That’s the only way to develop a personality. Maybe you can write a small part of this on your website. Sarcastic conversations between an asexual schizophrenic and a libidinous dead friend.
Me: Sure. I can immortalize you on my tiny corner of the internet. Do you want me to use your first name? Or you could pick a name. What you’re saying does make sense to me, even if I am different. Would I post our actual conversation or is there anything you would want removed? I don’t want to change you. I have no expectation of preventing your death, really. I don’t want you to die but that’s your choice and I’m not going to guilt you for living or say it’s selfish to die or any of that crap. I’m sorry you fell this far before we met though. I guess I am thinking of this more like how I would treat a friend on their death bed. Not say, “how dare you die? Why would you die?” That’s idiotic. I’ll just talk to you and spend time with you while I can. I like talking to you.
Me: Also dude, did you realize your birthday falls on Easter this year? You picked a death day that coincides with the resurrection of a murdered deity. I only noticed because there is a drag queen I might go to and it is on Easter. April 9th. Damn dude.
Me: Also I use dude for everyone, I’m weird. I actually have no idea what your gender is unless you said it and I missed it.
Ceylon: Yes, that’s the game of life. It was in my last days that I found someone who could be one of the most colorful people in my life. It’s hard to find someone who understands sarcasm these days. I know you’re not just talking. You can write them down and you can choose the name you want. I don’t think schizophrenia is a disease. It’s the others who are sick. They try to medicate everyone who doesn’t perceive the world the way they do. So that their illness is invisible. It’s also nice to find someone who loves you for who you are. Too bad I’m leaving this world without having a sleepover with you. I like you too. You’re brave.
Ceylon: I’m human 🙂
Ceylon: I guess I am, unless I’m a program living in a simulation. Maybe when I die they’ll take the virtual glasses off my head and welcome me.
Me: Oh my god, a drag queen event I might go to. Not the actual drag queen. I guess people were right. getting an English degree does not prevent typos in the least. I might become friends with the drag queen but it is unlikely. Very unlikely. If you are wondering why my g is always lowercase, it’s because my g key doesn’t work. g is now ctrl v. I copy and paste. It’s a pain to hunt down a capital so I just allow the imperfection grudgingly. Not even sure how this laptop works. It’s 6 years old and separating into 4 pieces. It dies if it’s unplugged and the screen is cracked. It closes all applications at random and the monitor dies at random. I never turn it off because I am not sure it will ever revive.
Ceylon: Go and kick their ass. Show them who the real Queen is. 🙂
Me: Aww, but they get enough of that from society. I don’t need their crown. My partner says I am a goddess. Why would I demote myself so drastically to a mere mortal queen? Plus I hate dresses and makeup. I wore a lacy undershirt and shorts so long they could have come from the men’s section today and no one cared. My partner wore a robe and a plague mask. Her dad had his girlfriend over so she wandered over, asked a question about food prep, and walked away. His girlfriend laughed. Her dad didn’t bat an eye. I’m not sure he noticed. Or at least didn’t think it was commentworthy or strange.
Me: Sorry I tell her anything I say about her to anyone else or publicly, so she corrected me and said it was a cloak, not a robe. I have made a grave egregious error.
Ceylon: A plague mask? My favorite object in the world. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I was definitely a plague doctor. I even thought about getting a tattoo for a while, but it was too expensive. Tell your girlfriend that our styles match.
Me: Ok she also said grave egregious is redundant. She’s such a cute nerd. And a great editor even when dead tired somehow. I am also an English nerd so I match with her that way. I can edit anyone’s writing but my own. Don’t ask why, I have no idea.
Ceylon: I think you should spend some time with her. I know I’ve kept you very busy. Thank you so much for this lovely conversation.
Me: Ok. I’ll choose a name. Or a few and you can pick. Do you care what pronouns I use for you? Also I didn’t know you were going to re-enact the Christian resurrection cyberpunk style. Don’t tell the Christians, they’ll freak the fuck out. You’re only the second person who’s responded to any of my comments in Suicide Watch. I’ve reached out to at least 15 people. But I did manage to help one.
Me: I can do five tasks at the same time with complete focus. Maintain five conversations, if I wish. While tired and recovering from an allergic reaction. Perhaps my partner was correct about my god status…. Now I am talking to someone who I thought was dead at the same time as you. They messaged me and then I didn’t see it for two hours because I was outside and it was in requests instead of DMs. Apparently they were going to kill themself but were so fucking exhausted they fell asleep and just woke up.
Ceylon: That’s a shame. I thought I was special to you. You texted 15 other people. You can’t even trust homosexuals these days. 🙂 If there’s someone waiting to be rescued, I don’t want to keep you busy. We’ve been talking for hours. I’m sure you’re busy. You can write whatever you want for your story. I can’t sue you for royalties anyway since I’d be dead.
Ceylon: I guess it’s like an automatic task for you. You should save your energy for people you can actually save. I liked your girlfriend before I knew her, and I liked you. I think it’s time to say goodbye. Thank you for your time. I hope you continue to have a good time. I hope you have a good time. Bye.
Me: Not automatic, really. I do care. I just can do more than one thing at once. I’m sorry if it sounded like talking to you was a task. It was a pleasure to meet you. Just because I can’t “save” you doesn’t mean you’re not worth it. Everyone’s life has a deadline. Yours is just sooner. I’m sorry. I was hoping I would have until April 9th. I just meant I don’t have to sacrifice helping a person I can save to be able to spend time with you. But I will respect your wishes, and I will not message again unless you respond. On April 8th I will send a goodbye message. On April 9th I will post this conversation on my blog. A sarcastic conversation between an asexual schizophrenic and her libidinous dead friend. I think you should know that at least one person already cried about you dying. I don’t want you to feel guilty though. That’s not the point. You need to do what’s best for you. Make your own choices. Your life is your own. I’m sorry I only had the chance to get to know you in your last days.
Me: I don’t understand how caring about a lot of people invalidates me caring about you. I’m sorry you can’t trust me just because I try to help more than just you. If you want me not to post anything about you I understand. I’m sorry. You are special. I just joined Suicide Watch and I can’t see a message with someone about to die and say nothing. I am sorry. I guess it is possible to care too much. I know I said I wouldn’t respond again but I wanted to make sure you knew I care. I’m sorry. I am tired, and I didn’t mean it come off that way. Most of the time I reach out and watch people’s accounts disappear and it hurts. It hurts more this time. I got to know you a bit. And you are special. No one is waiting to be rescued, they are dropping like flies. But I can’t stop trying. It’s just the way I am. Don’t judge homosexuals. This was just me. It was my stupid tired phrasing.
Me: Sorry. One more thing. I don’t get any royalties on any of my writing. I publish it for free. In case it helps someone else. So you don’t need to worry. I won’t make any profit anyway. It won’t be a bestseller, but maybe some people will read it and know to be less like me if they want to really be there for someone. I am sorry. I have always broken everything I have tried to fix and infected all that I try to heal. I guess that’s my curse. Being a bad luck charm.
Ceylon: I don’t want to sound anti-gender. That was a joke. The part about being special was a joke. It’s good that you want to help as many people as you can. If it makes you happy, you should do it. I don’t expect any special attention from you. You don’t have a mission. I just thanked you for the nice conversation.
Ceylon: This account is 7 years old and I read that some people buy these accounts. My account will not be closed. If anyone wants to buy it, I’ll sell it. At least it’ll be money for food for stray cats.
Me: Damn. I am tired. I’m usually great at reading jokes and sarcasm. I think I missed the 🙂 because I was sleepy. I don’t need a mission. And fuck no I am not reaching out to suicidal people to make myself happy. My track record so far is stabilizing 2/17 of them. Fourteen are dead, you are going to die, and the other two are fine for now. It hurts. But I want to help people, and I relate best to suicidal queer mental wrecks since I am one so idk, and if they fit into at least one of the categories I tend to get along with them. I’m dumb. I’d try to rescue a spider from a stream even if it bit me six times. That’s just my nature I guess. If you want to end the conversation here, that’s ok. But I do actually like talking to you, so I’d prefer to continue until April 9th. I won’t ask for an extension. That never worked in college anyway ;). Up to you though. No pressure. Fair warning I am going to sleep in like five minutes since my sleep schedule is fucking weird. I didn’t really stay up even. I tend to go to bed around 5 or 6 and wake up 7 or 8 hours later unless I oversleep by some miracle.
Me: I am not sure it gains value with age. It’s not cheese or wine. But if I find a stray cat I will bring it home and if anyone questions me for adopting a random mangy animal without warning I will look very very sad and say it was a friend’s dying request. And then I will be known as a cat lady because I will have as many pet cats as pet chickens. 12. A good number.
Me: Well, I’m awake again. I woke up because my partner sat up and stretched and didn’t say anything and I got worried but her neck was just sore. And then my body remembered I didn’t eat much yesterday and how extremely hungry was. I told her I would eat and come back, but looking at food triggered my nausea. Ugh. It’s like the first 23 years of my life when I didn’t realize I was allergic to cow’s milk and eating, thinking about eating, and not eating all made me feel horribly ill. If my anti-psychotics hadn’t kept my weight up, I probably would’ve looked anemic.
Me: Not anemic. Well yes, but wrong word. Emaciated. Skeletal. Like something that crawled out of the grave but didn’t have enough energy to be a convincing zombie.
Ceylon: Right now I’m thinking more about what will happen to my cats. One of them is disabled. I need food and a few things for them to manage after me. I need to find a solution because I have no money.
Me: I might be able to help but my brain needs to be fully online first. Shelter’s obviously a horrible idea. Is it ok for me to ask where you live? I want to figure out if I happen to know anyone in your area by chance who would take them in, permanently or at least until they could have secure homes. What kind of disability does that cat have? I doubt I could take them, but maybe. I could ask if it would be allowed. I do like cats, but they would have to be driven here. My partner’s friend adores cats. She’s one of the kindest people I know. She researched for months before getting a new kitten and then picked it up a couple months ago. Unfortunately, the kitten immediately showed problems and it turns out it had some variant of Covid or equivalent. She got the kitten as much medical care as she could until there was nothing she could do. The kitten was let out of the oxygen tank thing because he was going to die regardless and she cuddled him and told him what a good boy he was and it was not his fault and she loved him and was glad she was able to spend a week with him even if he was sick. That it was worth it to meet him. I don’t know if she could take your cats in, but I think she could find someone who could.
Ceylon: I don’t live in America, I live in Turkey, so I can only be grateful for your kind offer. I need to find money and build a few cat houses with an automatic feeding system. The shelters are in very bad condition. One of them is blind. I need to adopt him. At the end of the day, there is the problem of money again. There is an independent area behind the house. I can make a cat house there. Other cats on the street can come. After a while, when it attracts people’s attention, I’m sure they will keep feeding it. Of course I have to work for this. You see, you can’t even think of yourself when you are dying. If you know people who want to help financially, it would be helpful. I don’t know such people, nor do I have the time to look for them.
Ceylon: My first pet was a chicken. 🙂
Me: Omg I will tell my partner when she wakes up. She has written rants about chickens being underappreciated. I have discovered that they are adorable little fluffy pets with cute personalities who let me hug them. I will ask if I can send you her passive aggressive sad poem about trying to keep roosters when she had to move to suburbia for a couple years. Pigeons are the absolute best too. People abuse the heck out of them and it pisses me off. My first pets were goldfish. Two of them lived 4 years and 2 lived for 6 years. I loved watching them swim. People say they’re dumb, but hey, I literally have the memory of a goldfish or a very old computer. I disappeared for a bit because I wrote 15 paragraphs to someone who was suicidal about their acne. I basically have eczema so I figured she might talk to me. I promise dude, you’re special though. ;). If anything this should prove that I will focus on people I can save but god that takes a lot of energy, so talking to my libidinous dead friend is a much-needed break.
Ceylon: Did you know that chickens are actually dinosaurs?
Me: Found Turkey on a world map. Well….hmmm…..my friend of 15 years lived in Tunisia for half her childhood until it got too dangerous for her Christian family, and she was the first one I could think of who is even close-ish. She lives in the United Arab Emirates now. A Christian in a Muslim country, but still safer because reality check not all Muslims are terrorists, society, and the majority are just chill. My closest friend in high school was Muslim and I was Christian and neither of us cared about the other’s religion. I should really check if she’s alive since it’s been like…..5 years since I emailed her? She stopped reaching out. Even if my friend from the UAE wanted too since she travels a lot I guarantee she’s not allowed pets in her apartment. Let’s see….friend from France I met a couple weeks ago is cool but not close. In Europe at least. We had a fun mutual ranting session. Not sure his anxiety would allow him to fly or drive to a stranger’s place and pick up cats. I think I know someone from Spain. Pretty sure. But also unlikely. Hmmmmm…..don’t worry, I am stubborn and smart, I might be able to think of something. I have 6 business ideas in various stages of set up that I have worked with my partner to come up with in the last 3 months. They all fill niches that aren’t met so they have a chance. I think I will do all of them and hire my mental wreck friends because why not. Then I can give them flexible schedules and no limit no questions asked off days. Makes no marketing sense but I am aiming for survival not millionaire. I have been told empathy is a poor marketing strategy but I beg to differ. It’s a perfectly fine one if your goal is survive on intelligence and creativity and at least scrape by. For some reason businesses don’t like this marketing model though. I guess they are thinking more of profit.
Ceylon: Yes, I have seen many Americans who say France when asked what the capital of Germany is. I guess their general level of culture is limited to their neighborhoods. They think America is at the center of the world. There was a cat documentary about cats in Turkey. If I find it, I will send you the link. There are many cats and dogs on the streets here and people love them as sons and daughters. There is an extreme love for street animals.
Ceylon: I am a non-believer. There are so many different faiths here. People think everyone is Muslim, Arab and rides camels 🙂
Me: Oh yes, I do know that chickens are dinosaurs. When I hear their happy screams, I tell them “I like your voice, dinosaur. I wish my lungs were that strong.” It’s in their DNA, you know. Don’t let their cute little faces fool you. They were once vicious predators. I kind of want to hug BJ the super friendly rooster right now because I feel so sick but they need to stay in their spacious coops until the aerial predators give up, so like at 3:30 PM. Also the feral peafowl have decided to join the flock so I had to coax one out of the coops. A girl so not the stereotypical peacock plumage but very pretty. Florida has the weirdest wild life. Adorable lizards and snakes. Fucking awesome spiders my fiancée said I am not allowed to pet.
Ceylon: Florida? Wow. Maybe you want to keep a crocodile in your garden. 🙂
Me: Ok….I don’t actually know what the capital of germany is sadly. Lowercase g is wrong but I lost my capital g sadly. I barely know U.S. geography because memory issues. I’ll learn. I decided to start with learning African countries instead of U.S. states first though. I already can locate the country of the U.S. on a map so why do I need to name its internal organs. I need to learn all of the other countries first. Also starting off with Africa because I have met Americans who think Africa is a country. I suppose they also think that they are all dark-skinned, can’t speak English at all, and speak some variation of Africanese perhaps? They probably live in huts though and need aid in the form of bags of rice dumped on a pier and lots and lots of birth control. I am rolling my eyes so hard now. The Americans are not sure, but they don’t even feel like learning the second most popular language in the US because you know why bother? I tried for 6 years to learn Spanish but my memory is so bad I can’t even be passable in it. I’m so sad. I might try sign language again if I can find a teacher. Not deaf but that’s not really relevant. I accept gifs and emojis as communication from friends when they are nonverbal or tired and I am fluent in that, but that’s not really a language. My partner understands some Scots after years of research but unfortunately we have not found any friends who would really care about that. America is not actually the center of the world. The center of the world is very far away and does not have livable conditions. I am pretty sure the core of the Earth is too hot. I wish to see this documentary. What’s it’s name?
Ceylon: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PpG0z-npFIY Maybe you can find a free version of that with English subtitle. Just Google it.
Me: Oooh can I ride a camel? I’ve had no luck with horses. I bet there’s as many camels in Turkey as there are Starbucks in America. (I am completely kidding, I also have zero idea. There may be no camels in Turkey, or just in zoos or they are as common as fleas). I have a friend who is Muslim and a friend who is Arab, and I don’t pretend I know much about Islam or Arab culture. I can stutter out some phrases in the Tunisian dialect version of Arabic very poorly, but that’s pretty fluent by American standards. One of my friend’s family members asked me how I was in Arabic and I said I am fine how are you and she died laughing, but said she was also fine, and I was like, I apologize I know my accent is strong and my pronunciation is off but I promise I mean well and I am not poking fun I just really am this bad. I am a non-believer. My only goddess is my partner and we’re equals.
Me: On it. I will find a free version if I can and hope for English subtitles. Or just look for context clues in the video if it’s not in English. I can deal. Americans love cat videos.
Me: Crocodile sure, garden no. Plants die at my gaze, wilting into sad little emaciated sticks. I have no idea why. It is a mercy for them if I do not try to grow them. I am so careful. I follow al
l the directions and care tips and they can’t survive my affection. Poor things.
Me: Found it for $2.99 on Vudu. That’s fine. Artists and writers deserve to be paid and I am one myself, so if my partner says we can’t afford it now I will wait until I can pay for it legally. That’s cheaper than a cup of coffee in the U.S. anyway.
Ceylon: I don’t want you to miss work. There are more people here who need your help than I do, and you have a life and a partner. It’s very kind of you to take this much time. Thank you. I appreciate it.
Me: I am not missing work. I’m unemployed working on self-employment, which is a slow process. I deserve a work break after that fucking allergic reaction. Of course there are other people who need help. Not ignoring them either. Talking to you is not wasting time. You’re welcome though. Thank you too for talking to me. I disappeared for a couple hours because I was doing some business stuff and doing chicken chores, but I’m here. I do want to watch the documentary, but I make financial decisions with my partner. Or at least tell her what I’m doing.
Me: Hi. Haven’t forgotten you. Just had to take more of a break today. Not sure if you check this now, but I figured I’d share the link to my autobiography posts. If you don’t want our conversation to be included, let me know. https://thequeerschizophrenic.com/writing/socially-unacceptable-the-daily-life-of-a-queer-schizophrenic-wreck/
That’s it. The end.
For anyone else who is reading this, below is the suicide hotline.
Suicide hotline: 800-273-TALK (8255)
You can also talk to me on any of my social medias if you need someone to talk to, but I am not a doctor or therapist so I am here more as a dorky traumatized friend who will check on you frequently and listen. I put my most checked social media in order of how often I check them.
Instagram: @thequeerschizophrenic
Discord: thequeerschizophrenic#1546
Reddit: queer_schizophrenic
Twitter: @thequeerschizo
Post 72 in Socially Unacceptable: The Daily Life of a Queer Schizophrenic Wreck (2022–Present)
This is an autobiographical series about my life, something I have wanted to do for a long time. I intend to add new content daily.
For the whole series, follow this link.
The Queer Schizophrenic 