It’s been my only ambition for years.
But I seem unable.
Hundreds upon hundreds of nights walking alone through the dark for an hour to get to a deserted bridge to hang myself. Or to that tree in the cemetary.
And yet, here I am.
I know that suspension hanging will only take two minutes. I’ve tried so many times; I’ve experienced fainting when I’ve increased the pressure on my neck enough. I know that if I step off and have a ligature/knot that I can’t release around my neck that it’s only a matter of two-to-five minutes of pain and desperate panic. That’s easier than many common pains and should be within my capabilities. It’s far easier than the ordeal of childbirth- or even less, of knocking out a un-anaestitized tooth. What is preventing me? Hope? No, I’ve had plenty of hope, plenty of “but maybe if”-thoughts. But nine times out of ten it isn’t hope that has me walking home again. It is fear.
I’ve experienced years of panic disorder in the past and I’m terrified by the thought of the panic I expect in dying. My last minutes completely consumed by a screaming desperation to get out of the noose. Feeling all consciousness draining away except for a kicking clawing horror while I fight unsuccessfully to untie the knot and rope that is tearing at my neck.
There’ve been countless times that I’ve put the rope around my neck with both feet planted on the ground and tried to let my legs fall out from under me. There’ve been times that I’ve lifted my feet from the ground and hung entirely by my neck. But I’ve always relented. The worst times are when I begin to faint. I get a tingling and rush in my head, a ringing in my ears as the sounds around me increase in pitch and seem to echo, the world goes grey, my legs begin to falter and weaken and I become disoriented and clumsy. And I am blasted by bolts of panic and the need to escape- stand up, release the knot, get out of there. Danger!!
I have done all I can. It’s not as though I’m not willing. If I don’t die tonight, tomorrow, next week, then over the next year there will be another hundred nights where I go out with the intent of not coming back. I don’t want that. It is not as though I’m unwilling. There’s just some powerful disconnect- I truly seem unable to overcome these devious survival mechanisms that disguise themselves as exhaustion, or apathy, or panic, etc…
Living systems (for example the human body and its mind) have evolved to stay alive. And they are deceitful. I know that this contemplation, the effort I’ve put into writing this plea seems directed towards finding a way to die, but it’s really just avoidance of dying. It’s a trick to keep me breathing for a few more hours, days, etc…
Around 40,000 people kill themselves each and every year. Suicide has been happening through all time. Can I really be the most cowardly among all these ghosts? Of all the millions and millions of successful suicides how can I be a failure?
I know I will probably just have to do the thing I can’t do. Somehow find a way to overcome my resistance. Perhaps I’ll unexpectedly find the strength, or maybe I’ll merely luck into it some night when accidentally my blood pressure plummets beyond recovery, or I accidentally knock away the stepladder before I’m “ready.” Maybe my life will end clumsily. Just as long as it ends.
Problem is, that’s exactly the sort of thing I’ve been counting on for years
I really want out of here. I'm sure of it. I would forgo a good life, I would pass up every joy just to have it all over- everything. my problem isn't that I want to live. It’s a severe case of “I’m not afraid of dying; I just DON'T WANT TO BE THERE when it happens.”
I need some drug that will switch off my fight/flight response, but not sedate me- a drug that will keep me alert and active but switch off the danger signals.
I need other voices on this. Could you please make suggestions? Inform me of the needed drug and how to get it. Or not drug-related suggestions. Anything to get me out of here. Please “help” if you can.