Guilt is what stops me

I am clinically depressed. It’s official, really. I think the easy way out is what I’m doing now, typing into the internet instead of just leaving a horrible memory for my wife and family’s already miserable lives. I want to die now, but the consequences of that is why I’m in such turmoil… I’m already employed, but it’s just slavery because I’m working to stay in debt – there’s no savings. Right now, my furnace isn’t working, and it’s cold. The basics won’t get it started, so I have to call in a pro. I cannot slave enough to pay for this. I know it’s not my fault, I didn’t design the world system I was born into, and I don’t have the resources to solve that global problem, but isn’t it wrong to want to die? Or is it wrong to feed this system with my pain? It’s torture. My wife is looking to me for answers and I have nothing. I want to die, now, on MY terms, not the world’s.

It is so stupid to think but I’m going to type it anyway: Suicide seems like the only thing I have control over. My joy, and pain is relative to people and things that relate to me. My wife is going through so much pain from consequences, disappointments, so many things that are outside her scope of control, that I can’t kill myself.  I can’t speak highly enough of her, but I’m confused. Like I’d still be aware of my wife’s pain well after I die. That for all my powerlessness, I’d still feel guilty.

So I’m alive, still, because this pain is easier to experience than that of the innocent. You can neither love nor hate me more than I.