The Exit Bag – I’m Going To Go Now

  December 10th, 2011 by Sunny

I’ve never liked needles. I’ve never liked knives. Despite my tattoos, I’ve never been a ‘pierce the flesh’ kind of person. Blood makes me squirm. I’ve always wanted to go peacefully, with dignity, not writhing around in pain during an exit or leaving a mess for someone to clean up.

So I guess after the first failed attempt when I was 15 years old chugging down pills, I realised that just popping pills isn’t exactly a peaceful death. The stomach cramps are the worst. But it seemed like the easiest, least messy, readily available way to go at the time.

There have been a few semi-attempts since then, nothing too serious. The stomach cramps have induced me to vomit a few times after that, and then I’d end up hating myself even more for ruining my exit or wasting my pills because I haven’t got any more and I’ll have to stock up again or just because I’ve failed again and obviously I’m not taking this seriously enough.

Almost nine years on, and after years of toying with the idea and fighting it, I’m going to try again.

Last night I was going to try and OD on some temazepam washed down with half a bottle of absinth. I messaged one of my best friends, who lives interstate so he couldn’t rush over to stop me, what the lethal dose would be with my weight. He’d tried the same thing years ago and it didn’t work. Looks like I didn’t have a large enough dose of temazepam to guarantee a final curtain. When I read that, I felt the heaviest weight on my soul. So much hurt and I still had no means to escape it.

I’ve decided instead that I’m going to use an exit bag, a peaceful death. I’d done a bit of research on this method before, but now I’m looking at it seriously. I am going to take the pills I have left, wash them down with alcohol and fall asleep for the last time. If that doesn’t work, just in case, I’m going to get some disposable helium during the week from a party store and rig that up as a fail-safe. I’ve read it only takes a moment before you’re out and the helium replaces the oxygen in the bag, but your body doesn’t fight for oxygen as much like it does when there’s too much CO2 in the air.

I suppose I’ll leave a note with all the personal reasons of why and saying what I have to say to the people I love. I’ll say that if I survive with some sort of mental impairment or damage to my organs or am brain dead, I don’t want any medical intervention or life support. I just want people to realise it wasn’t just a quick overnight decision and to take me seriously. It has been years in the making, but even though circumstances in my life have changed, it hasn’t been for the better. If anything, the things that have happened over recent years have given me more than just the teenage incentive to die because you get bashed and bullied every day at school and home life isn’t all it should be.

Before, the pipe dream of having someone to come home to and a family was motivation enough. The ideal of opening my own studio or making my own beautiful animated movies was enough to keep me pushing through the hurt. I told myself I’d hang on until I had at least one short film done, so when I go I have something beautiful to leave behind.

I don’t hate life. I’ve never hated life. I would have loved to have a beautiful life. I would have loved to have experiences and something that I could claim as my own. I lived and breathed for creating beautiful things, like art and experiences and, one day, a family. I would have loved to have fallen madly in love with someone who’d fall madly in love with me in return.

Now those dreams are gone. I’ve been too hurt. I can’t live like this anymore.

My friend doesn’t want me to go, but he says if I’m going to, I should at least wait a few days for him to fly over so he can say goodbye. I’m going to ask him to please make sure I don’t wake up this time. I really respect him for respecting my decision and not giving me the “suicide is so selfish” excuse everyone else who’s not suicidal or depressed seems to dish out.

I never understood when people said that. If anything, I think it’s selfish to guilt-trip someone into staying in a terrible situation just so *you* don’t feel guilty over their death. It’s like telling someone else not to try and take a splinter out of their own finger because you can’t stand the sight of needles. It’s not like I’m an integral part of their life. Yes, I know this will make a few people cry, but they won’t cry forever. The world won’t stop turning, people will get along with their partners and their children and their friends and  their hobbies and their nights out and their nights in and occasionally, maybe,  think of me when they stumble across an old picture or a cartoon or an old memory. The hardest thing for me will be leaving behind my parents, especially my dad. I’m their only child; they’re too old to have any more now. I am so very sorry for leaving them, and I know it’ll hurt all the more because their religion is against suicide, but I just can’t carry this unspeakable burden and this broken heart anymore.

So I’m planning to do this on Friday the 16th. That leaves less than a week. I’m trying to prepare myself with everything I need to make sure it works and to do everything right this time around, but I’m afraid I’m going to wake up in a hospital somewhere. I don’t want to survive with damaged organs or impaired mental capacity. That would be a whole new hell unto itself.

I guess I just wanted someone to hear me say I’m going now.

If anyone has any tips or like to offer some helpful advice to make sure this works, or even if you have a better method for a peaceful, readily available death, please let me know in the comments. Leave me an email address to respond to or some way of contact if you like. I don’t want to be told not to do it, I don’t want to be analysed, I just want to make sure it works this time. Please, if this plea has made any of you care for my wellbeing, just help me do what I need to do as easily as possible.

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