Thank You Henry Rollins for Your Offensive Comments About Depression and Suicide

This summer, Punk Rock icon, actor and writer Henry Rollins wrote a controversial opinion piece entitled ‘Fuck Suicide’ for the L.A. Weekly in which he viciously criticized those who commit suicide, including Robin Williams, who killed himself after a long battle with depression.

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Into the Blue

I’ve always prided myself on being a “happy, optimistic and motivated person.” I’ve even bragged about it but out of nowhere Depression just crept in through a basement window and I found him sitting there with his feet up on my nice, new mushroom colored couch and he decided to stay.

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Kicking the Habit

I grew up in Paterson, NJ. It was a tough neighborhood where the second graders cursed, the nuns smoked and the dogs snarled. But the most feared group in all of Paterson… the ones who terrorized children… the ones who promised that retribution would be swift and merciless… was not the Jersey Mob but the Jersey Moms.

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Big Hearing Girl

After years of living under the watchful eyes of Grandpa and Aunt Jane, my mother and father bought our new house the summer of 1963.  Buying that house was a big deal for them because Mommy and Daddy were Deaf and after a lifetime of struggle and exclusion this house was a declaration of faith in themselves and more importantly their independence.  

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I Haiku - Do You?

Up until 7th grade poetry was either boring or stupid and often both at the same time.  I was never really moved by Carl Sandburgs’ “Fog comes down on little cat feet” Although I can still recite it by heart- and recite it with meaning. Rhyming couplets were especially hard to write because of the iambic pentameter thing.  And the limerick, I thought those kinds of poem had potential.

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Ed Anderson
Thank You Steve

It was a splurge- over $3,200.00 and one that I allowed my husband to indulge me in. He’s terrific like that. We lived in a 2 room dorm apt at UCLA.

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Ed Anderson
Aiming for Sainthood

We wait, we wait and we watch. You see all kinds in a hospital; fast businessmen in their expensive suits rushing in for the obligatory visit; the revolving door of nurses checking charts…

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Ed Anderson
Deaf Club

The New Jersey Silent Club was an old storefront with N.J.S.C. carefully painted on the picture window in gold and black letters. When my parents and their friends pushed open the heavy, wooden doors they were no longer the “Deaf one”.

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Ed Anderson
You're Breaking My Heart

He’s the one whose smile is like looking into the heart of dream and he smells like an autumn afternoon. He’s that boyfriend, the one you wait for hoping that he’ll stop in even for just a moment.

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Ed Anderson