Suicide: The Ultimate Catch 22?

Sorry for my prolonged silence. I have been snowed in with a kid and that fries my brain to the point that I cannot string together a coherent sentence. That and I have been feeling a little blue the last few days. No real reason for it, except maybe the holidays--I hate them. The stress, fuss and bother. Trying to make them good for everyone and always feeling like you came up short; you know, the usual. It does not surprise me that this time of the year has the highest suicide rates, not because I am going to off myself, but because of the cheer and how it makes you feel if you are not one of the cheerful. My little sister is locked in a bitter custody battle with her not-quite-ex-husband right now and she was feeling so hopeless she was thinking some crazy thoughts. I had to remind her that if she acted on any of them, who would poop on her ex-hubby's grave? (Under normal circumstances I would not condone pooping on anyone's grave, but he may very well deserve it.) If you are anything like me, and hopefully you are not, you don't want to miss what is coming next. Sure, I get down and think about ending it all, but I need to know what is going to happen next. My life used to be an X-rated soap opera (now with a kid it has been knocked down to R-rated) and sometimes I love the surprise of what is coming next. I am dying, no pun intended, to see how things are going to work out and wondering how it is going to play out. And that may be the only thing that keeps me here. Because, yes, MS sucks eggs, but I gotta know what is going to happen next. It is an endless source of wondering and speculation, especially when it is something you never would have guessed. Sometimes life is too fun to turn off the soap opera.