I've posted my history with depression and life circumstances that lead me to this point several times on this forum but I have never really talked about how I felt about death over all of that time. I'll jot them down in case anyone is interested. This is going to be kind of long. You can skip the first two paragraphs if you don't want the background.
I have been pretty familiar with death my entire life as I was born at an odd age interval in my family where the older generation was already quite old. By the time I was a teen, I had already been to several funerals and, to me, people dying was kind of... normal? So death and dead people were not a foreign concept to me. I was raised first Catholic and then switched to vanilla Christian in my mid 20s (I'm 40 btw). As such, I was taught and still held the belief that suicide is wrong and will lead to an eternity in Hell.
I was first suicidal at 15 (who isn't?) and developed my mental disorders at the same time. They went undiagnosed and untreated for a few decades. In that time I continued to feel hopeless and suicidal for various reasons but my fear of damnation, among other reasons, kept me here. Fast forward to a little over two years ago. My depression has been steadily getting worse despite therapy and medication. I need to get a divorce and cut out of my life most of the people who claim to love me but I no longer have the strength needed to execute and endure such major changes in my life.
My only choice was to suffer in misery for the rest of my life so I chose to shorten my life.
That realization two years ago is what flipped the switch. I started, for the first time, questioning the validity of the claim that suicide is an irredeemable sin. I started researching what Christians were saying about suicide and I came across a passage:
Eighteen months ago, I made a few half-baked attempts to ctb, learning a few valuable lessons: don't set a date and practice your method. The former took off the pressure associated with the event while the latter took away the strangeness of doing something I knew would result in my death. Unfortunately my method wasn't bulletproof and SI saved me while I was unconscious. But I had confidently taken steps to end my life. I had also learned the last valuable lesson: thoroughly research your method. Done. Now, not only do I have the confidence that I can take steps to end my life, I know that the attempt is significantly more likely to succeed.
As all of this was going on, my depression sunk lower and lower to the point where hanging myself was preferred to living. A month ago I went from thinking ctb is an option to thinking ctb is the solution. I stopped caring about finances, my physical health, my diet, my job, and my hobbies. I didn't care that I'll never see the Northern Lights in person, that I won't know how a comic series ends, that I won't ever get through my Steam library (will any of us?). Suddenly it was ok that I was going to cut my life short because the result was relief.
Finally, the last barrier crossed. I no longer fear the pain of death. I no longer fear the afterlife, whatever it may hold. I feel some guilt over hurting those left behind but it pales in comparison to the anticipation of peace I feel when thinking about no longer existing in this realm. Whatever death holds, literally whatever, could never be worse than what I have now. I am ready to go. I feel so free.
I know I'll still have to deal with SI and I'm sure I will hesitate when teetering on my chair with a rope around my neck, but I also feel so confident that the end is nothing but an end to my suffering and I can't wait for it to be over. Thanks for reading!
I have been pretty familiar with death my entire life as I was born at an odd age interval in my family where the older generation was already quite old. By the time I was a teen, I had already been to several funerals and, to me, people dying was kind of... normal? So death and dead people were not a foreign concept to me. I was raised first Catholic and then switched to vanilla Christian in my mid 20s (I'm 40 btw). As such, I was taught and still held the belief that suicide is wrong and will lead to an eternity in Hell.
I was first suicidal at 15 (who isn't?) and developed my mental disorders at the same time. They went undiagnosed and untreated for a few decades. In that time I continued to feel hopeless and suicidal for various reasons but my fear of damnation, among other reasons, kept me here. Fast forward to a little over two years ago. My depression has been steadily getting worse despite therapy and medication. I need to get a divorce and cut out of my life most of the people who claim to love me but I no longer have the strength needed to execute and endure such major changes in my life.
My only choice was to suffer in misery for the rest of my life so I chose to shorten my life.
That realization two years ago is what flipped the switch. I started, for the first time, questioning the validity of the claim that suicide is an irredeemable sin. I started researching what Christians were saying about suicide and I came across a passage:
That was it. That was what I needed. I thought long and hard about what I had learned about God and His love and forgiveness and I realized that if it was true that God forgives all of our past and future sins, then forgiveness for suicide had to be included. While this didn't completely remove the fear of what happens after death, it gave me some much needed reassurance.
Eighteen months ago, I made a few half-baked attempts to ctb, learning a few valuable lessons: don't set a date and practice your method. The former took off the pressure associated with the event while the latter took away the strangeness of doing something I knew would result in my death. Unfortunately my method wasn't bulletproof and SI saved me while I was unconscious. But I had confidently taken steps to end my life. I had also learned the last valuable lesson: thoroughly research your method. Done. Now, not only do I have the confidence that I can take steps to end my life, I know that the attempt is significantly more likely to succeed.
As all of this was going on, my depression sunk lower and lower to the point where hanging myself was preferred to living. A month ago I went from thinking ctb is an option to thinking ctb is the solution. I stopped caring about finances, my physical health, my diet, my job, and my hobbies. I didn't care that I'll never see the Northern Lights in person, that I won't know how a comic series ends, that I won't ever get through my Steam library (will any of us?). Suddenly it was ok that I was going to cut my life short because the result was relief.
Finally, the last barrier crossed. I no longer fear the pain of death. I no longer fear the afterlife, whatever it may hold. I feel some guilt over hurting those left behind but it pales in comparison to the anticipation of peace I feel when thinking about no longer existing in this realm. Whatever death holds, literally whatever, could never be worse than what I have now. I am ready to go. I feel so free.
I know I'll still have to deal with SI and I'm sure I will hesitate when teetering on my chair with a rope around my neck, but I also feel so confident that the end is nothing but an end to my suffering and I can't wait for it to be over. Thanks for reading!
