I wanted to share a scene from my favorite roleplaying game of all time – Disco Elysium. A part of the game that often comes to my mind is the dialogue path which follows a failed skill-check. My description could not do it justice, so please watch this video if you want to see it for yourself:
I was lucky enough to experience this turn of events in the game myself instead of finding it somewhere online, and what I felt playing through it was familiar. A couple years ago now, when I was at home by myself, I decided to rummage through the medicine cabinet. I wasn't in a very good headspace at the time, and I wanted to harm myself more than I usually did; so I pooled as much expired medication on the kitchen table as I deemed necessary.
It wasn't so much about actually taking it, I didn't plan it, I was just completely distraught. But the way I felt while lifting each light box of medication and placing them down one by one, opening them, reading the effects and expiration dates, was so mind-numbingly calming and peaceful that I wish I could go through it again without needing what leads up to it. Everything felt heavy, I struggled to lift my arms to grab the boxes and fumbled with them for minutes. I was more present in my body than ever before, which is the same state I would try to achieve with cutting too.
Didn't end up taking anything, but I felt infinitely better afterwards. That's what the scene reminded me of – I was doing something critical, something that really mattered and would have tangible consequences. It was grounding and emotional, and selecting the option to pull the trigger would've undoubtedly felt euphoric, but the ending that followed was the perfect letdown.
Should the protagonist choose to kill himself there, he wouldn't be able to solve the case; which even if he fails at (like I kinda did) it's still an infinitely better and more rewarding outcome than the suicide. And that's how I feel about my own life looking back – I think it's good that I'm still here.