Note

I sometimes plan out my own suicide.

I wonder who would be affected, my mom would be the worst off. Her first son offing himself. I would hope she doesn’t blame herself for it. Perhaps my recently ex-girlfriend. She might try and blame herself for it too, perhaps think that if she hadn’t broken up with me it could’ve been avoided. Or if she’d talked to me more after the breakup. Truth is, I’m relieved she broke up with me. It saves me the hassle of breaking up with her before doing it, or doing it while we were still together and leaving her in relationship limbo. My father would be stoic. I’m sure I was viewed as a failure in his eyes, I was never good enough for his standards. Move on, try again. That would be his feeling toward it, besides, he had his second chance anyway. My younger brother. I’m sure he’d cry at least a bit. I was his role model, someone who he looked up to, someone who pushed him away. I sometimes wonder if that’s the reason I never attempted to get close to him, I knew one day I’d have to cut ties and do this. I think he’d cry, but he’d forget about me eventually. We didn’t have much in common. He’s a smart kid and he’ll probably do something great with his life. The family dog, he’d probably would wonder where I was. Perhaps walk into my room expecting me to be there, but the room hasn’t changed since I’d done it.

The next question would be how I would do it. I would want to lessen the blow on my friends, family and relatives. If I could, I would simply erase myself from history. Never born. There would be no pain involved, simply someone who never was. I don’t have that luxury. The first option that I’d always thought would be the simplest; buy a gun, aim at head, pull trigger. But that would leave a mess. The mental scarring of seeing your sons head blown to bits would probably be enough to drive my mother insane. The next option is hanging, but there is too much struggling if I don’t snap my own neck. I don’t want to suffer more than I have already. Then I thought about electrocuting myself in the bath. It would probably be the quickest and cleanest if I could devise a way to do it.

If I’m going off the electrocution suicide, I’ve already thought of how to execute it. Step one would be leaving a note personally to each family member, trying to explain it in terms they’d understand, my own mindset behind it. Tell them I’m sorry they had to know me and I had to rip myself away like a bandage. I’d leave these notes in my room, perhaps tidy up a bit, this place is beginning to look like a mess. Step two would be to staple a note to the outside of the bathroom door, before closing and locking it. This one would be for the police. It would tell them not to let my family into the bathroom, I wouldn’t want them to see my dead naked body, again, mental scarring thing. Step three, I’d make sure to call the police, report my own suicide. There was something poetic about it being done that way. Step four, I would send a message to my now ex-girlfriend. I’d tell her it wasn’t her fault and this would have happened whether we were together or not. I know she’s going through a depression of her own, I wouldn’t want her to be more depressed over something so trivial and inevitable. Send it off, and drop the toaster into the bath. Something I’d half-heartedly joked about with my friends. A zap, and it’d be over.

I think about this often, but I’m not ready to commit. For now, it’s a fantasy. Something I wish I’d be able to do if it weren’t for all the variables. I don’t want to cause others pain, so for now, I live for them. For my mom, for my brother, for the family dog, perhaps to try and prove my father wrong. Show him I’m not a fuck-up and even if I don’t make it through college I can still do something with my life. I also still think suicide is a cowardly thing. How could it be that bad that there is no other option than to kill yourself? So now I think about just running away. Getting in my car, leaving for a month, maybe more, maybe a year, maybe forever. Drive until I get to a place where no one knows me and start again. Perhaps during this drive though, I realize that my life isn’t so bad. I decide to turn around, come back, finish what I started, maybe work things out with my ex. If something doesn’t change fast in my mindset though, I don’t see a future where I’m truly happy. I’ll play this computer keyboard like a piano and create the saddest tales from my anxiety ridden and depressed soul. No one even reads these, it’s just for me. To read over and realize how dumb I’ve been, how egotistical and selfish. How it really is my fault and no one else can be blamed for the predicament I’m in. Maybe before I take the final bath, I’ll reread this, and think, why didn’t I do it sooner? But then again, maybe I’ll decide that this is just like any other bath, and dry myself off, move on, try again.