Keeping my Mental Illness to Myself

The other day, someone asked a group of us one of those thought-provoking questions:

If someone could tell you what date you were going to die on, would you want to know?

People had various answers, as can be expected. I ended up blurting out:

"I don't know... If someone told me the date I was going to die, I would be too tempted to drive into a bridge abutment the day beforehand to screw fate over."

And you know, everyone stared at me in horror, and I remembered that I am supposed to keep those kinds of thoughts to myself. You know, the kinds of thoughts that expose the extent of my mental illness and/or obsessive compulsive disorders...

It's just like a nerd like me to turn a philosophical discussion into a scientific experiment that would determine if a prediction of death were an absolute prediction or an upper limit on your lifetime.

Picture of car crash courtesy of LorE Denizen's Flickr photostream [flickr.com].