I have to go because I can't work, didn't get disability and won't before the lease is up in a year, and will make us homeless if I stay alive. If I die, my section 8 goes to another person in the house who does have disability. That'll enable the other (also disabled but without SSI) person to survive. The apartment complex has a rule that each person must make a certain amount, and my third wheel throws it.
Technically that's still pain and suffering avoidance, because it'd hurt to make everyone else homeless and I don't want to suffer and die on the streets.
I don't have healthcare and can't re-prove disabilities again. (If you fail a hearing, you have to regroup and start from scratch and pretend your prior documents don't exist). I had a judge who picked on me (made fun of me) from the stand and was asking questions that had nothing to do with disability. He started out yelling about my ID card (which is legal and fine). He wanted to know why the address was changed (I had to change it to keep safe from an ex- it's a program put on by the attorney general's office). Now that information is on official court records, which negates everything I've tried to do to keep myself safe.
SO reason #2 is knowing I can never be safe from the ex.
Reason #3 My eyesight is really screwed up (I do wear glasses, but neurologically there's something wrong. Once I went blind for a month. NO offense if anyone here is blind, but when you can't see it's the worst sort of boredom and terror. When I finally went to a doctor about it, nothing was done. She said, "You look like you can see"... which is asinine because I couldn't leave the house when I couldn't see. I couldn't even work a telephone. Most likely a side effect of one of the seizure drugs I used to be on that no one will admit is a real side effect.
Symptoms of my PTSD are sometimes unbearable and unpleasant for others. I have fugue states and temporal lobe seizures (the seizures are from a fractured skull when I was little that were made worse later from big pharma). Who wants to live with that? Sometimes I don't remember what year it is, or what words are and I get angry at the people I live with when it's not their fault I can't talk... which I worry is untreated, undiagnosed dimensia.
Lastly, sure... suffering. It hurts to move. It hurts to sit. Exercise causes my stomach to sometimes swell until I can't breathe. I keep gaining weight and not from over-eating. It's changed my entire face. I'm over twice the size that until now I'd always been.
I have so many reasons, but I don't know if I'd do it if it weren't for being forced into it because I'd rather go this way than make everyone homeless and be homeless myself. Homelessness is societal homicide. If they're going to kill people with lack of aid, why not let us have access to things that'd ease the passage out? Easy cheap access to nitrogen, unadulterated helium, morphine?
It's going to hurt to die. A lot. And I don't believe in an afterlife, so the last moments of my waking life will be me in agony because so far the only ways I can get out without anyone noticing and on my budget are painful. There's no existence after that. So if it were just pain, would I? I don't know.