Re: Easy, fast, painless way to kill yourself
Posted by:
Clare
()
Date: December 08, 2015 08:31AM
I have successfully completed my 2nd degree (in a medical-related field), but it has left me with low self-esteem due to lack of support from placements and Uni.
In my first year of study my dog died and my mother was in and out of hospital with infected leg ulcers (she is 76 and disabled with RA).
Just as I entered my 2nd year of study my 80 year old father, my mother's carer, was diagnosed with a rare cancer. Despite my misgivings I didn't voice my concern that his treatment was unlikely to be successful (he wouldn't have had the treatment if it wouldn't cure him). I took a year out of Uni. to take care of my parents (they live abroad so I had to fly there).
When I got back and restarted my 2nd year of study, 4 months later my father went into hospital and was dead within 3 days - I didn't have time to say goodbye or comfort him (he lives abroad remember). Uni. gave me no support - take a year out if you must (not an option for me). My husband became depressed with work-related stress then lost his job (constructive dismissal) within a few months of my entering my 3rd year of study. Misery was further compounded when my cat died around the same time. From abroad I had to organise the sale of my mother's house (my childnood home) and for furniture to be moved. I stressed about my sister finding a care home for my mother. Again no support from uni.
My 3rd year at Uni was manic and stressful; no time to grieve these losses. I surived on a day to day basis, trying to ensure that I was keeping up with essays and thesis whilst being on placement, most of which went on at the same time. I didn't think I would pass my final placement.
When I thought it was all over and I could start to relax, my husband decides that he is going to grow his hair. I had known for a number of years he was into cross-dressing. I had ignored it and said that I didn't want to be involved, and I didn't want him to do this at home. Him growing his hair was the last straw - his alternative interest was now in my face. I stopped looking at him and my temper, I am deeply sad to say, has been like that of a 6-year old: crying and wanting to do damage; picking fights to confirm that I was a loser, useless and a bad person. Needless to say my relationship with my husband has not been good. it was not good whilst I was at Uni, but it has got worse since and I am not proud. I am deeply ashamed of being a 45-cum-6-yr old. I am not proud.
Last week a relationship councelling session revealed that my husband is considering going for sex change councelling. I have no idea if my behaviour is driving him to seek solace in the arms of his other self. He denies this, saying that the itch to cross dress just keeps getting stronger and he feels he cannot control it.
The deep pit I had been in whilst at university has just turned into an abyss and I don't know where it will stop. I have no idea why my husband has not held off and given me space to recover from the last 4 years. He said that if he cannot cross-dress freely he will be miserable for the rest of his life. It is either that or him taking his life (he stated as much) or getting a divorce; he is prepared to risk a divorce and my (and his?) lifelong unhappiness over this, as his general happiness about his true self is more important than anything else at the moment. I love him very much and don't want a divorce, and neither does he. However I feel I cannot live with the idea of being married to someone who has made the trans-gender change. Would that make me a lesbian? I feel my life has ended. I wish there was a self-destruct button.
I have thought about suicide nearly every day for the last 3 years - perhaps shocking, but the abnormal (suicide ideation) has become the norm for me. However, the chances of taking one's life successfully are very slim. Over 90% of attempted suicides fail. The body is designed for life, not destruction. Yet, I have started to, over the last few weeks, visualising the steps I would take to take my life, as I did when I was preparing for an exam, writing my essays and preparing for an interview. These steps are slowly accumulating: writing my will, writing instructions for my husband as to who to contact, looking out my Advance Medical Directive, removing photographs of my blood relatives and me (husband doesn't appeared to have noticed or has noticed but doesn't comment, just as he doesn't comment on the fact that I have not washed or combed my hair for weeks, or that I have slept in my clothes). I write DNR on my chest (small enough to be hidden by under-clothing) in indelible ink (we sleep in separate rooms now, since my husband started to shave his chest).
The 2 options I have concluded are: 1) accumulate enough over-the-counter tablets that suppress respiration and hope that I do not vomit them before they have had time to take effect - eat a heavy meal and something cold (if I can face eating) to slow digestion, and perhaps take a 6 tablets over the course of an hour before swallowing the rest; 2) order a bottle of nitrogen. It apparently does not give the feeling of suffocation that CO2 does (but hubby will wonder why a bottle of nitrogen that he has not ordered has arrived; how do you hide it; how do you buy the bottle when you don't have money); If I thought I could get away with pretending I had an incureable disease and had the money, I could fly to Switzerland.