Thursday, March 11, 2004
Today's Thoughts
Lately, it seems like I can't get anything done unless I'm procrastinating something else. So, I go grocery shopping to avoid scooping the litter. I file the millions of papers on my desk to avoid calling the authors of this book I'm working on to bug them for their chapters. I vacuum the living room to avoid practicing guitar. It's a strange way to organize my life, but at least I'm getting some things done.
I just finished reading "Lucky" by Alice Sebold during my lunch hour. I read "The Lovely Bones" a couple of months ago. She's a good writer. "Lucky" is her memoir of being raped as a freshman in college (including the trial after & her becoming a teacher & eventually a writer) & "The Lovely Bones" is a novel about a 14 year old girl who was murdered & raped & about how she & the family get through the grief. In "The Lovely Bones," the girl grows up while watching her family & friends from heaven.
So much of what I write here on the blog (when I write, which is rare, but I am currently procrastinating riding the elevator to the 26th floor to drop off some documents) is about grief. I've accepted that. This is an outlet for me & maybe some people appreciate reading about it. Hopefully, my accounts are at least readable. Or, maybe nobody reads this...need that "comments" field...
So, last Saturday, a 19 year old NYU student committed suicide by jumping from a building. The New York Post, which I understand is one step (if that) above a tabloid anyway, ran a photo of the girl jumping (!!!) in yesterday's paper on the front page! I was so shocked & so offended by the photo that I told Joe & he wrote an amazing, angry letter to the editor. So did I. They printed 3 letters (not our letters) expressing outrage in today's paper (I checked the online edition; I would never spend a penny to buy the print edition.) & that made me feel, I must admit, pretty good. Vindicated! The letters were strong. They expressed disapproval. I'm glad to see that my fellow New Yorkers were as offended as I by the Post's terrible "journalism" and lack of respect.
I must say I'm very affected by these suicides at NYU. There have been 4 since October (I believe), but one was ruled an accident due to drugs -- which I don't necessarily agree with but I understand that it must provide some comfort to the grieving friends & family members to see it that way. Plus, I acknowledge that I do not know all the facts. I am very affected by these suicides. I feel raw, like "it" is all around me. Spalding Gray's body was found earlier this week. He is believed to have committed suicide as well.
When my brother first died, I didn't like the phrase "committed suicide." I heard someone say "died by suicide" & I felt less of a pang. Now, I say both. I think I have become accustomed to the pangs, the many pangs. Maybe I'm not accustomed at all. Alice Sebold said she remembered the details of what happened more clearly 5-10 years after than she had in the first 3 or 4 years. She also said she recorded the exact details in her journal at the time, which I've done/started to do. I have always felt like I want a record of how I've felt, maybe to get it out or maybe so that I can go back with a greater understanding later or maybe just to put it down & try to realize it's real.
Anyway, to the 26th floor I go...
-m
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Lately, it seems like I can't get anything done unless I'm procrastinating something else. So, I go grocery shopping to avoid scooping the litter. I file the millions of papers on my desk to avoid calling the authors of this book I'm working on to bug them for their chapters. I vacuum the living room to avoid practicing guitar. It's a strange way to organize my life, but at least I'm getting some things done.
I just finished reading "Lucky" by Alice Sebold during my lunch hour. I read "The Lovely Bones" a couple of months ago. She's a good writer. "Lucky" is her memoir of being raped as a freshman in college (including the trial after & her becoming a teacher & eventually a writer) & "The Lovely Bones" is a novel about a 14 year old girl who was murdered & raped & about how she & the family get through the grief. In "The Lovely Bones," the girl grows up while watching her family & friends from heaven.
So much of what I write here on the blog (when I write, which is rare, but I am currently procrastinating riding the elevator to the 26th floor to drop off some documents) is about grief. I've accepted that. This is an outlet for me & maybe some people appreciate reading about it. Hopefully, my accounts are at least readable. Or, maybe nobody reads this...need that "comments" field...
So, last Saturday, a 19 year old NYU student committed suicide by jumping from a building. The New York Post, which I understand is one step (if that) above a tabloid anyway, ran a photo of the girl jumping (!!!) in yesterday's paper on the front page! I was so shocked & so offended by the photo that I told Joe & he wrote an amazing, angry letter to the editor. So did I. They printed 3 letters (not our letters) expressing outrage in today's paper (I checked the online edition; I would never spend a penny to buy the print edition.) & that made me feel, I must admit, pretty good. Vindicated! The letters were strong. They expressed disapproval. I'm glad to see that my fellow New Yorkers were as offended as I by the Post's terrible "journalism" and lack of respect.
I must say I'm very affected by these suicides at NYU. There have been 4 since October (I believe), but one was ruled an accident due to drugs -- which I don't necessarily agree with but I understand that it must provide some comfort to the grieving friends & family members to see it that way. Plus, I acknowledge that I do not know all the facts. I am very affected by these suicides. I feel raw, like "it" is all around me. Spalding Gray's body was found earlier this week. He is believed to have committed suicide as well.
When my brother first died, I didn't like the phrase "committed suicide." I heard someone say "died by suicide" & I felt less of a pang. Now, I say both. I think I have become accustomed to the pangs, the many pangs. Maybe I'm not accustomed at all. Alice Sebold said she remembered the details of what happened more clearly 5-10 years after than she had in the first 3 or 4 years. She also said she recorded the exact details in her journal at the time, which I've done/started to do. I have always felt like I want a record of how I've felt, maybe to get it out or maybe so that I can go back with a greater understanding later or maybe just to put it down & try to realize it's real.
Anyway, to the 26th floor I go...
-m
