No time to bleed

I began cutting at the age of 14. Got serious and went to rehab and have been ‘sober’ for 8 years now. I remember the joy and pleasure it gave. It’s been a ‘scar’ on my personality ever since and they will never fade. I have made multiple ‘attempts.’ I guess, I never ‘tried’ bit if I succeeded I wouldn’t have minded it. The only think keeping me from it is the shame I bring to my family and the social stigma that comes with the territory of prying eyes. I have been obsessed with death and no light in sight. I feel like today was my rock bottom and I found this site. I’ve lost a wife, while deployed, because of my alcoholism. And I lost the true love of my life and the most beautiful (step)daughter in the world because I don’t know how to abstain from my poison. I become abusive (verbally). I drink to the point of black out. I know this doesn’t seem on the topic of suicide, but follow. I joined the Marine Corps for the purpose of dying. Figured a honorable death wouldn’t woe my family as much. I prayed to find that ied with my hoof. Pink mist. Perfect. No shame. I wasn’t lucky enough. So I continue my downward spiral of self destruction and die for the moment. Everything I do is a calculated risk of inadvertent suicide. It’s not that I can’t or won’t, it’s who is left behind and my family doesn’t deserve the shame. They can mourn a death, not be chastised for raising a suicidal. I drink to the point of black out, I alienate everyone I am close to. I have no remorse, keine rue. I do not because no matter, I can not change.