I can’t see how I’ll ever be able to overcome my fear and actually do it. Which is irrational. Presuming consciousness disintegrates with the body, what is there to fear?
Yes, it will completely devastate my parents and sister, and yes, that’s terrible. But do I really care enough to endure another 20 plus years of feeling like this (not to mention how much worse things are likely to get)? Surely not.
Given that we all have to face death naturally at some point, it makes sense to skip ahead and bring an end to my own wretchedness.
I’m just so instinctively averse to the idea. Even just to making plans or purchasing equipment. Intellectually, I’m more or less resigned to the necessity of it. Emotionally, I’m dragging my feet.
The survival instinct in me is strong enough to prevent me from ending my own misery. But not sufficient to push me to build a life actually worth living, or enjoy the positive things I do have.
Mentally, I just want to stop, quit, cease. I don’t want to have to live with this despair, guilt, shame, longing, or craving anymore. I don’t want to be ‘me’. And there are crucial things about me I can’t change. I don’t want to live with this.
But still I cling to life. To the delusion that if I just bury my head in the sand for long enough, everything will work out ok.
It traps me with the worst of all outcomes – unable to end my own suffering, but without motivation to improve my life.
I don’t know how to overcome my resistance and do what needs to be done.