O'Neil De Noux
Well, it's here. Christmas decorations going up, retailers luring people to sales, snow coming, holly jolly stuff all around - and suicides.
As a detective, I remember storming into the squad room and kicking my trash can. The others waited for it as I slammed my briefcase down on my desk and huffed and growled, then finally come out with it.
"Goddamn radio!. They're playing BELLS WILL BE RINGING and ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU, the day after Thanksgiving."
Oh, yes. Suicide Season had arrived.
It wasn't long before we got the first call. Around Christmas more women commit suicide. Letting the depression overwhelm them so they take the only way out to relieve the pain.
"But she seemed almost happy yesterday," a teary-eyed relative would say. "She gave me the necklace our mother gave her. Said it should be shared."
Almost happy because she made up her mind to end her problems. She gave you the necklace to make sure you got it. Said it should be shared.
"Has she seemed depressed?"
"Yes, ever since (fill in the blank here - broken heart or losing a job or money problems or health problems). But she was coming out of it."
Men are not immune. Depression is an equal-opportunity affliction.
"If this is a suicide, why two gunshots? Why did he shoot the coffee table?"
Answer - "Hesitation shot. He wanted to make sure the gun worked."
The problem is we're human and humans get depressed and humans know how to end it. Do lame animals jump off cliffs to end it all? Do birds fly into fires when their mate flies off with another chick?
Few, if any animals hear Christmas music. Good for them. Thankfully, they couldn't understand it anyway. Although my wife insists our cats understand English and just ignore what we say because - they are cats.
Here are two examples to pick y'all up after reading this depressing post.
Banjo in Christmas tree. That's right. My daughter named her cat Banjo. I keep forgetting and calling it Bicycle. Who names a cat Banjo?