Out Of Poverty: How To Quickly and Painlessly Kill Yourself

September is Suicide Awareness Month. Suicide is the most preventable form of death. Prevention and intervention of this final act are everyone’s responsibility. (U.S. Air Force photo illustration/Airman 1st Class Corey Hook)

The Pale Cast Of Thought

Sometimes life is too difficult. It’s not what we signed up for. And so we ponder the notion of quitting.

But then what? We die and . . . that’s it? Do we hover over our bodies; as some say, who’ve died and come back? Do we see a light at the end of a tunnel? Some say we have a choice to dissolve into the light or return to our broken bodies.

Regardless, I wanna know, does that light represent something better, or worse? Or do we dissolve into nothingness? Thus conscience does make cowards of . . . not all of us. But most of us.

In the spring of 2013, I just simply didn’t wanna go on anymore — begging for jobs, for handouts, or for companionship. I believe that some people kill themselves in good faith. That is, they’ve thought long and hard about it; they’ve talked to other people about it; and they feel good about ending their own lives. But that wasn’t me. Nor is it, I suspect, the vast majority of people who ponder it. People like us just want help, desperately. We just want out of the pain as quickly as possible.

I was at the AA central office when the notion hit me. And I had just had a nice long talk with my sponsor (who works there), which had put me in a better mood. But suddenly, it was 5 o’clock. And just as suddenly everybody rolled out of the office and went home; leaving the night guy at the phone, and me.

I didn’t want to go home. Go home to what? My cats? And not enough food for the three of us? Not that I didn’t have some money. But I was scrimping for rent. I had a bag of frozen carrots and some saltines at home. The kids were surviving on Meow Mix. No treats for any of us until the rent got paid.

But at that moment, I just didn’t want to take my emptiness home with me. I sat in the meeting room, with my ailing laptop. And I started to google “how to quickly and painlessly kill yourself”. Before I could finish typing those words, I broke down in tears.

I called my friend Kelly. She listened to me crytalk for 20 minutes.

Then I went home, and found in my mailbox a check for 3000 dollars.