Before I forget ...

One other thing I found striking about the first article I mention below that ran on NYTimes.com: the idea that people who had survived suicide attempts felt like they then became completely different people afterwards. Since I didn't actually go through with my attempt, the process has been less of a distinct-before-and-after for me than for them, but I don't feel much like the person I used to be.

I don't laugh nearly as much. This is not because I don't think things are funny, but because I used to laugh at a lot of things that weren't funny. I suppose it was nervous laughter. I've heard it called the "shadow" laugh, because your psychological "shadow" is laughing at you.

I sleep much better, and generally much more.

I feel more relaxed most of the time, because I'm not trying to avoid my emotions as much.

I used to always be on the go, doing something, planning my next move, thinking ahead. Now, I spend a good amount of my free time doing nothing at all.

I let myself feel whatever it is that I'm feeling (at least some of the time).

I worry less.

I engage in much less emotional eating.

I might still think that doing X will make guy Y want me, but now, I at least restrain myself from actually doing it, because I remind myself I deserve someone who wants me just the way I am, and who wants to do things that will make me want him.

When people say or do things that hurt my feelings, I'm more likely than I ever was before to tell them or show them that I'm upset.

I rarely do things I don't want to do because I think I "have to". There are still things in my life I do that I don't necessarily want to do: go to work every day (seriously, when is the independently wealthy stage going to hit??), live in Berkeley (that's another entire post, which I'm working on), and pay $4.60/gallon for gas (thankfully, I don't have to drive much). But there are so many things that I thought I "had to" do for so long, that I've given up, that what's left is manageable, at least for now.

So I suppose that, in a sense, I am in the midst of committing suicide, just of a different sort. I am killing off the "old" Lisa that was really just a jumble of behaviors that I thought would get me what I wanted from other people and behaviors that would make me feel "better". The Lisa that has probably always been in there somewhere is starting to emerge. I just wish it were an easier process, but I would rather do it this way than in a wheelchair or with a hole in my brain the way people who actually went through with it and survived have done.