There’s always a very short window of opportunity in every facet of life which closes very rapidly, and once closed, is closed forever. When it comes to recovery, shall we say recovery from suicidal thoughts, that wndow of opportunity has closed permanently should you find yourself still suicidal after 21. I recall as younger man being able to feel the window of opportunity close in respect of trying to score weed with the lads. If you like weed you don’t just like it, you fucking love it passionately, like the passionate love between Heathcliff and Cathy in Emily Bronte’s celebrated novel.
I recall vividly standing under a streetlamp with the lads, the availibilty of weed would play a starring role in the enjoyability of the evening. We would meet at 7pm, someone would make a call and then announce to the rest of us ” He said he will ring back”. At this stage in the evening there was still hope, however 7pm would turn to 8pm very fucking swiftly, you could feel the window of opportunity starting to fucking close, we would collectively cling to hope, ppl would speculate on various theories, maybe he got caught in traffic?. Lost his phone? Battery in said phone went dead? Car accidents enroute? 8pm would turn to 9pm, at this stage the window of opportunity had closed but we would still cling to hope until the wisest amongst the group would chime in with the truth ” Even if he got the weed, by the time he gets home, divvys the weed up, it will be too late, he won’t be out with the weed tonight”.