It is possible that my voice is improving. Slowly. Blogging may or may not ramp up slowly as well, depending on how things go. For now, a brief anecdote about depression.
The last few weeks have involved some pretty severe spikes in depression, on account of my having to self limit my levels of human interaction. They have also involved a lot of neck irritation on account of the fact that I really need to replace my razor sometime soon.
In thinking about that, it occurred to me that it might be fun to buy and learn to use a straight razor. I think it would be fun, and I’m considering getting one, but I haven’t made a final decision about whether or not to get one. I’m waffling because I have depression. I have depression, and I have been suicidal before, and while I am not at the moment, it’s not impossible that I could be again at some point in the future.
I have to ask myself: would it put me at an increased risk of suicide to have a straight razor flirting with my major arteries every morning? Would owning a straight razor, a tool that would make it that much easier to commit suicide, increase the risk that periods of suicidal ideation would lead to actual suicide before the low points had passed?
I don’t know what the answer is. Right now I want to live, but I remember what it’s like to want to die, and I don’t know if it’s a good idea to own something that would give my potential future suicidal self the means with which to do so.
Some decisions get a lot less simple when you have to take into account being neurologically atypical. This one is one of those.