I die a little more inside every day

I feel like I’m dying inside increasingly every day. I cannot take it anymore. I have realized being suicidal is so much more than I could ever explain in words. But the thought of a failed suicide attempt is terrifying to me. The shame is too much to bear which will make me more suicidal in turn. My family doesn’t know I used to be suicidal. I mean what do I even tell them. How do I tell them I don’t want to bring them shame by unaliving myself. I also don’t want to give anyone a reason to underestimate me even more. Sometimes there things so private that I can’t talk about them even with my bestest of friends. I know I’m not going to actually unalive myself but I keep having fantasies of it. My ex boyfriend and I used to joke about having fatal car accidents. I can’t take it anymore but I’m somehow taking it at the same time. I don’t know anymore. I’ve only ever told complete strangers that I used to be suicidal except maybe one or 2 people in my circle. My suicidal fantasies have reduced a lot, but every once in a while curiosity strikes. It makes me wonder how it would have felt had jumped off of a high rise building high enough that I will actually die. I’m not going to kill myself but I sometimes wonder about the chain reaction it would have set. My family cannot bear the burden of another death. They would have been devastated and find no meaning in life of their own. I do not want to be the person who does that to them. Survival of people refusing to unalive themselves it is ……