Dear Reader;
I don't know who you are or why you are reading these words. I only know that you are here on this blog and, for the moment, you are reading it. It is my hope that if you find this blog useful,you will continue to come back.
As blogger, it would help me a great deal if I knew more about you. But I don't and, unless we meet sometime someplace, we can never know one another. So we are stuck right here in the beginning. We are strangers and that is the way things will be between us. But this should not stop us. At least it will not stop me.
I am going to dedicate this blog directly to you, as if you were sitting with me in my office. My office is a warm room. It is quiet and private. We have comfortable chairs and the phone doesn't ring. No one will disturb us in my office. It is the office in which I do what psychologists often do-listen to people, talk with them, and try to help them with life's problems.
At the outset I must assume a couple of things about you. And while it is dangerous to make assumptions about people, because of our relationship, I will have to do it. I will assume that because you are here on this blog, you have thought about taking your own life, or that you have already attempted to do so. Either way, I will assume you are greatly troubled and that you have considered ending your life.
Assuming this to be true, I am going to talk to you about the pain of living and the consequences of dying, so far as I know about them. I am going to talk to you about suicide. And because your life is at stake, I am not going to fool around. I am not going to kid you. I am not going to mince words. Rather, I intend to be just as honest and straightforward as I know how to be.
I don't know who you are or why you are reading these words. I only know that you are here on this blog and, for the moment, you are reading it. It is my hope that if you find this blog useful,you will continue to come back.
As blogger, it would help me a great deal if I knew more about you. But I don't and, unless we meet sometime someplace, we can never know one another. So we are stuck right here in the beginning. We are strangers and that is the way things will be between us. But this should not stop us. At least it will not stop me.
I am going to dedicate this blog directly to you, as if you were sitting with me in my office. My office is a warm room. It is quiet and private. We have comfortable chairs and the phone doesn't ring. No one will disturb us in my office. It is the office in which I do what psychologists often do-listen to people, talk with them, and try to help them with life's problems.
At the outset I must assume a couple of things about you. And while it is dangerous to make assumptions about people, because of our relationship, I will have to do it. I will assume that because you are here on this blog, you have thought about taking your own life, or that you have already attempted to do so. Either way, I will assume you are greatly troubled and that you have considered ending your life.
Assuming this to be true, I am going to talk to you about the pain of living and the consequences of dying, so far as I know about them. I am going to talk to you about suicide. And because your life is at stake, I am not going to fool around. I am not going to kid you. I am not going to mince words. Rather, I intend to be just as honest and straightforward as I know how to be.
