Last Exit

A week from today, I will end my life.  I have known for better than 20 years that my end would come by my own hand.  Now it is time.  While I am both heart-broken and depressed, I also realize that I no longer have the capacity to contribute to the world at large, much less to those I love, in any meaningful way.  I’ve known for roughly five years that the confluence of events over the course of my now 46 years were heading in this direction.  I’ve sunk ever so slowly into a situation that makes my ability to continue, impossible.

A month ago, my wife of four years decided she wanted a divorce.  No big fights, no big problems, no cheating, or violence or drug/alcohol/gambling issues at all.  She just announced to me a couple of weeks before Christmas that she “couldn’t do this anymore.”  I had no idea why.  On New Year’s Eve, I finally found out why, because she had found something in my web browser cache that lead her to believe I was cheating.  Of course I’m not and I wasn’t and the whole thing really was a stupid misunderstanding.  We’ve had a number of positive/meaningful conversations since and I understand much better now that she is struggling with self-image (she always has) and seeing that I had stumbled upon a web site full of pretty young prostitutes selling their wares may as well have been cheating given the way she feels about herself and her struggles sexually.   I have taken every reasonable step to be supportive and to work with her, to no avail.  She says she can’t go through that feeling again.

Of course what is missing from all of this is that she made this decision and immediately –without even talking to me– signed up for general assistance.  We have a daughter and her well-being is not being accounted for.  Since I am not native to where I am currently living, I am expected to move 2500 miles back to where I came from.  I haven’t worked in two years.  We’re struggling financially.  My car is not fit for a cross country drive.  My only option for shelter is my sister who lives so far out in the sticks that the nearest store is 18 miles from her home.  There isn’t a city with a population of more than 5,000 within an hours drive.

A lifetime before I met my wife, I was married, had kids, had something that resembled a family.  Long story short, that divorce cost me everything.  The lies and rumors she spread about me caused a lot of problems in the little community we both lived in.  It didn’t matter that she was lying through her teeth, what mattered was that she was able to spread enough doubt to hurt my reputation and my ability to do business.  Eventually, in a fit of despair, I moved away, 2500 miles.  Granted, I made a few mistakes and some poor financial investments, so what little I took with me was gone quickly.  My friends and family were remarkably supportive and provided me with enough opportunity to come home and begin feeling sane and normal again.

What I had left behind was the woman I am in love with.  Eventually we married and I moved back to be with her and start a family.  I thought that I may actually live a long healthy life back then.  Then came the bullshit from the ex-wife and a child support order exceeding $2500/mo despite the fact I was only earning $4000/mo.  The child support people believed for whatever reason (my ex has friends in that department) that I was lying about my income despite W-2’s, letters from my employer and Federal tax returns.  Even when I started on unemployment benefits the claim was I was knocking down $150k/year.  My wife and I and our child went without a lot of things since.  There’s no end to it in sight.  I lose every hearing despite the evidence.

Now, I am informed that my wife — because she applied for assistance — will be required to seek support from me for our daughter.  She has the power to stop this and accept cash from me, but so far has refused.

So unemployed for two years and falling (soon) to nearly $3000/mo in debt before I can even eat or rent a shithole apartment.  I’m dealing with two different states on it.  I have lost my health to PTSD and have Generalized Anxiety Disorder.  Everyday a new panic attack.  And there are dissociative episodes.  I have warrants for my arrest for falling so far behind in support payments.  It’s an overwhelming mess.

So why am I posting all of this here?  I’m doing so because I am done reaching out to friends and family.  I am done with being further hurt because my problems are unworkable.  From everyone, the same proclamation, I can’t do anything to help.  Mind you, this is the first time I have ever really asked anyone for help.  Even when my friends and family helped out a few years ago, I hadn’t asked, they offered.  And yes, I have helped them and many, many others on numerous occasions.  My resume of volunteer work is impressive and I did it quietly for a long, long time.

There will be no suicide note.

I have booked two flights for next week.  They leave within an hour of one another.  My wife and friends know about the first flight, but not the one I will be on.  I have a burn phone and will ditch my normal phone before arriving at the airport.  I’ll check in to a hotel at my secret destination and pay cash.  I know the area from a business trip a few years ago and always liked it.  I’ll rest the best I can the first night and spend the next day hunting down everything I need for a helium exit bag.  I even know how to make a regulator for the tank so I use the proper amount of helium.  Next Saturday, I’m going to hang out with my buddy Jack Daniel’s until I find the courage to put the bag on my head and turn the gas on.

Last Exit…