I find it funny and ironic about myself that within a span of literally a few weeks I can go from feeling strongly suicidal to worrying that my annual digital mammogram would be actually a couple months overdue this year. You see, all my relatives besides my mom lived long lives, and she did not because she neglected to respond to a breast lump promptly. So I am trying to be a good girl and avoid her fate, opting for early detection. But again that worry coincides with occasional suicidality. Whether I will ultimately be a statistic, I do not know; I know that I almost became one in the past, but I cannot see the future.