journey continues

Three times. Three failures. Twice. I will explain.
This is not only the third time I have raised a loaded gun to my head. It is also the third time in the last 3 weeks that I was ready only to back out.
First things first.
The first time, back in June 2012, it was purely impulsive. No plan, no thinking. I was faced with an impossible choice. Either give her up or give up everything else. This will be the common theme in my suicidal journey. Someone trying to take her away from me. Obviously I chose her.
The second time, January of this year, I had a plan. Though about it for days. Wrote letters, put my affairs in order. I left my car at home, and took a cab to her place. I wasn’t planning on leaving there alive.
If the first time was an impulse, this time was a contradiction. I had a plan, I had intent, but I made intentional mistakes. I gave advance warning to people that tried to stop me. The police was called, I was taken into custody.
I had to spend five completely useless days in a psych ward. Voluntarily, if you can call it that. Got no “help” of any kind. Losing my freedom, even temporarily, created additional problems for me. Biggest waste of time and money ever. This whole episode will cost me over $5,000 and that is with insurance paying the bulk of it.
The third time I raised a loaded gun to my head, was Tuesday at 1:30pm. Sat there for 90 minutes before I gave up. I had planned it just right. I made no mistakes. No advance warning. I was ready.
But still nothing. This was the third time in three weeks that I was ready. But, as I suspected, the method I’m using is impossible for me. I’m unable to shoot myself. No matter how much I want to, I can’t do it.
There must be multiple reasons as to why, but I will focus on the one I have concluded to be the main reason. I am afraid of botching it.
I know that if it is done right, I will barely feel anything at all. By the time I hear the sound of the bullet being fired, it will have already penetrated my skull and blown away my ability to feel pain.
But, what have I ever done right in my entire life?
Most of us are here for that very reason. We tend to screw everything up. How can I possibly trust myself to carry this out correctly?
The fear of ending up in worse shape and in more pain, but still alive . . . it just won’t let me carry out my plan.
Most “normal” people would just quit right there. But I’m not and I can’t. I still have no desire to live. My pain has actually gotten worse, having to deal with yet another failure. It seems that the only thing I’m good at is failing. No surprise there.
So my conclusion is this: I need to find an alternative way to go about this. Guns are out. Now back to more research. I know I can find a way out of here.