Today I discovered that a former co-worker of mine past away a few years ago. In the year 2006 we were on the same team at a live chat call centre where we would pretend to help clients. We also sat right next to each other. The most memorable conversation I remember having with him was when I jokingly said that I would eat his dog. To my surprise he took offence to it.
The most memorable moment with him was during a car ride home together where I was driving. We were coming back from cooking lunch for terminally ill AIDS patients, you know, one of those things that large corporations make their employees participate in. I freaked the shit out of him and my supervisor in my car when I forced my way through a busy intersection. As long as vehicles have sufficient time to stop before hitting you they will do so.
His obituary stated that he was battling depression which probably means he took his own life at 37 years of age. If I had to speculate I would guess that a recent ending of a marriage/serious relationship was also a major factor based on what I saw and didn’t see on his Facebook page. Here are a couple suicide statistics in Canada:
- Although suicide deaths affect almost all age groups, those aged 40 to 59 had the highest rates.
- Married people had a lower suicide rate than those who were single, divorced or widowed.
I’ve read that white males in their middle-age have the highest rate of suicide. At that age if you’re not doing so well in life you feel that it’s too early to retire and too late to start over. If you’re single and have no children then it’s just another reason to give up. Isolation whether physical or spiritual is a product of present day civilization in a developed country.
I didn’t know it at the time but when I distanced myself from society at the beginning of the decade, I may have unknowingly rolled the dice on my mental health. It may have been a bad roll of the dice given that multiple members of my family suffer from mental illness. I figure if I was predisposed to having a mental illness it would have happened by now. Luckily, I’m also used to living a shitty life and have always had low expectations. If your parents are from the baby boomer generation and born in Canada, you might have expectations that are more difficult to meet in today’s world.
Talk show host, Jerry Springer, used to always say at the end of every show,
“Take care of yourselves and each other”
Today was a semi-productive day. In the morning I phoned senior citizens to have them place their grocery orders with the Shop By Phone Program. Old Canadians all seem to need their milk and long English cucumbers. After that I shopped for groceries for the old guy in my neighbourhood that I help out every week. He said his older brother who was 88 years old, “kicked the bucket,” a few weeks ago. I knew this already though because he forgets that he tells me every time. He’s been pushing a bit more money to me recently for helping him out. I don’t know if it’s because he’s almost at the same age of his brother’s age of passing. Maybe it’s because I’ve been telling him sob stories of my life on how as a baby I was found in a cave in Mongolia abandoned by my family. When you’re a hermaphrodite in Mongolia, your village tends to shun your family. “Life has been tough,” I tell him, “but I find a way to get by,” I add. In the past I would refuse the money if I felt it was an over-compensation. I figure it makes him feel good and plus I know he’s very financially secure, maybe too financially secure for his age and condition. I’ve just now decided that he should transfer most of his money to me because he’ll never use 95% of it. His adult children live out of town. I’m his new son and I deserve his money more than they do. Justice needs to be served.
Also today, I phoned the city to ask about my garbage cart. Someone, probably very close by, did not want to clean their garbage cart that had an oil spill in it so they decided to swap it with mine. He/she is either a dumb buck or a sociopath because every cart has a unique number printed/painted clearly on it. The next scheduled garbage collection day, all I have to do is walk around and match the numbers. The girl on the phone told me which street my new garbage cart belonged to which is the same street I’m on. I highly doubt it was anyone farther than 2 houses away. I’ll bet money it’s either my next door neighbour or the house right across the street. I’m wagering more on the latter because they’ve always struck me as imbreds who don’t really give a shit. They’re the only neighbours in close proximity who I’ve never made eye contact with. I guess you can say, ‘they keep to themselves.’ Now, for my retribution plans. My first instinct is to give them a stink eye and to mention to them that I’m aware of what they did. While never having read The Art of War I’m quite certain that it says something about not letting your enemy know what you know and don’t let your emotions rule you into a fruitless battle. In other words, don’t get their guard up so that you can strike with mystery. The aftermath will have your opponent confused because in their head it could have been anybody, maybe a bunch of kids on Halloween who had nothing better to do with their eggs.