People who search the internet for suicide posts can find the usual fair of sadness, anger, and pain. I’m going to be a little different than that.
I came here to tell a little bit about my upcoming journey in a different manner. I’m 34, married, and have done quite a few things in my life (both good and horrible). I’m not living with cancer, or otherwise have an incurable debilitating disease that slowly siphons off my ability to do things for myself. I’m your regular run-of-the-mill depressed with my own set of past traumas and life stressors.
After many years in various places, doing all of this therapies, taking all of the medications, doing the talky-talk and the journaling and baring my soul to a stranger with a degree in listening to depressed people, I started doing some deep introspection on why I have tried suicide in the past. Why was it so hard to do? Why did I become overwhelmed with fear when I was on the cusp of the great beyond? I know at the times that I have tried were at points were the pain was at its greatest. Then there’s those times where things weren’t so bad. I can move on! I’m a lot better now, thanks! Then the cycle begins anew.
Your modern day “How to Spot a Suicidal Person” manuals talk about finding someone who is always crying, in a constant state of crisis, not eating or eating too much, taking unnecessary risks, etc. While these are all certainly signs of someone who is in great pain and needs an understanding ear very much, only a small mention is given to the person who is serene. Nobody expects the happy person to go. You even hear it from family and friends when some neglected soul decides it’s had enough pain. “I never knew.” Or “They just seem so happy.” Or “I never saw this coming.”
For those of you who find this, being in the “I never saw it coming” crowd, let me provide a piece of insight:
– It’s partially by the design of the one you have lost. They didn’t want you to see them in pain. Sure, it’s also got the element of “I finally have control, I have a route mapped to take me away from this pain.” But few people who are in pain want those closest to them to know that they are distressed. I certainly don’t. Not after all I have put them through with my own problems.
I believe that I have digressed enough. Now, I’m in the older crowd. I’ve tried this before. This time, I’ve researched and researched more. I have learned about what happens to one’s body when facing death. We are hard-wired to avoid it. Great for surviving dangerous situations, terrible for on-the-fly decisions regarding our mortal coil. I have asked the people with the degrees in listening to depressed people about the curability of depression. I asked some questions specific to my own situation. I have read stories and watched videos, and compared to my situation.
I have made an informed decision. As an informed and consenting adult, I choose to die on my own terms. I am not under duress. I am not doing this as an acute reaction to an acute situation. I am well aware of the possibility of what could happen if I should not succeed in my chosen method. I am at peace with my decision to not continue living with, at times, debilitating depression or my inability to change my own brain chemistry through (temporary) medical means.
As my husband insults me for my not doing a task to his standards a moment ago, I can only smile. It’s okay, darling. I’ll not be burdening your life much longer. You’ll be free to find someone who is more closely aligned with your standards. I’m the ultimate wing-woman: the ladies eat up the grieving widower shtick. I’m making sure my husband won’t be lonely after my passing.
I have a couple of beautiful spots picked out for my final act, should one be too crowded. I have a couple of days left to pick out an outfit. I have no friends or family to account to, so that will be easy enough. I have a final meal picked out. I have a couple of beverages that I would like, and will get on that day. I’ve left instructions to not have a military burial or any of that nonsense. All of this has been going on for about a month, and I have already made certain physical preparations regarding my health. I have thought about the whole effect thoroughly, and have given myself sufficient time to change plans and set others in place. Most importantly, I have a playlist. No good exit is complete without some good songs.
I’m happy. I’m finally going to be free.
8 comments
Can I ask what method you have in mind?
I noticed you said you had dificulties with suicide before,
I’m having dificulties right now, but right now would be a good time for me I’m 32 and I also have a debilitating anxiety and depression didorder.
In the interest of keeping in line with the “no methods” rule, I am not going to divulge my chosen path.
I will, however, inform you of what I have tried in the past, with some obfuscation of the specifics.
-OD, ended up sensitizing myself to the medications I used, which is unfortunate because they’re very commonly prescribed and useful when used as directed. That ended up doing long-term damage, and I ended up suffering needlessly because of it.
-Ye olde wrist slittery, which is just messy and personally painful. I wanted away from the pain, not have more of it. It’s a terrible way.
-Hanging. I’m not a fan of feeling choked. In a moment of desperation it seemed logical to do. It’s not. It’s scary, and I want less fear, not more.
A distant associate of mine has a career in… Let’s say he’s the last chauffeur you’ll ever need, has provided me with insight into all of the gruesome things that people do to themselves to complete the final act. None of which sound particularly painless, peaceful, or clean. His recounting left me off of the desire for a number of years.
I respectfully suggest that you take the time to research, dig deep, into the cornucopia of ideas that the internet has to offer. Weigh your personal situation and pain against your findings. Read the stuff written by funeral directors and coroners. Read both the happy and sad accounts of the people who are going through similar situations, and their survivors. This is not a decision to take lightly. This is your final act, and it deserves the reverence and respect of being properly undertaken. Treat it with the same reverence and respect that you deserve but haven’t received. You shouldn’t need to feel as if you need to make a sloppy and hasty retreat to the beyond. Ensure that this is your own decision, on your terms, and not as The Ultimate Insult to someone else who has wronged you yet isn’t living your life.
If you want to die, make it the best damn death you truly deserve. Love yourself enough to give yourself a good and peaceful death. Find the strength to care enough about yourself to be in a comfortable and calming environment before shuffling loose your mortal coil. As long as you aren’t physically harming another (like crashing into another vehicle or jumping out into traffic).
Take the time. It’s worth the peace. Do the preparations and planning. Do a dry run, complete with the food, so you’re not surprised at a crappy restaurant. Change your plans. Change them again. Perfect them. I’m buying myself the corsage I never got. Plan on doing those little things for yourself that you wish someone would have done. There’s something freeing about fixing your own heart up as best you can before you stop it from beating.
Whatever you find or decide, good luck. Depression and anxiety are motherfuckers. Flip them both birds and go out smiling.
I agree with what you are saying this needs to be given thought and care as you say it is the last act.
And I agree it should be the most comfortable situation you could possibly make it.
Unfortunately there is a sense of urgency for me. I’m trying to avoid incoming pain.
I just can’t seem to prepare myself for it mentally.
I am glad you’ve made peace with yourself and are adequately prepared to confront eternal nothingness.
Mrs. Happy, this is the best post I’ve ever read. Thank you. I will be saving it and referring to it over the next several weeks. I appreciate and can relate to the serene acceptance and personal responsibility for your final decision. Some of what you said mirror my own being, but I hadn’t recognized it.
Thank you again.
I like the way you think. I like the way you express yourself. I take it you were in the military too. This story makes me think your life has had some horrible things happen in it and you yourself are really smart. Like a lot of us here. But yeah, a good playlist is utmost.
Nicely written. Thank you for sharing your thoughts! Death is the only thing that gives me hope for now