Why is it that for the scariest and most dangerous undertaking of my life, there is no one I can turn to for help? Why do those who supposedly love me want me to continue suffering instead of helping me end my pain? Would they really prefer that I suffer a messy, painful death alone, rather than ensuring that I go out feeling loved and at peace?
I have only to imagine the reverse situation to have the answers to my questions. I know I could not stand by while my loved ones died by their own hand. And yet, this so called love is condemning me to a most likely horrifying death at the hands of an inept executioner. I can’t succeed at the most simple things in life; so how can I expect to succeed at a painless and lethal suicide attempt?
Yet I MUST die. There is NO ALTERNATIVE LEFT. Continuing on in loneliness, humiliation and pain is no longer to be considered. I wish that someone would love me enough to help me do this painful, terrifying, but necessary thing. I’ve already failed at it once… Most likely I will fail when I try again, like I have at everything else in my life. Only the most violent methods will do. I hate being backed into this corner.