I’m planning on it too. My family has no cancer or heart disease on either side…just old age and crap-your-pants senility. At some point I’ll build a nice walk-in freezer and wander in there with some music and a bottle of scotch. Someone will have to find my body but at least I’ll be fresh and not leaking anything.
Considered, and planned, yes.
If diagnosed with a terminal illness, I would (to be crass), off myself.
I have two methods in mind.
Plan A is to go to my Doctor, complain about a strained nerve in my back, and then down a bottle of Rum with the bottle of pills.
Plan B is to buy a ticket to Rio, and jump off Jesus. Strange, maybe, but possibly “spectacular” in it’s own way.
I would of course have to check into my work insurance policy to make certain that my upcoming neice or nephew would be covered. Suicidal, maybe, methodical, no.
This is in regards to carbon monoxide poisoning, right? Then I have to call “I think not.” Carbon monoxide poisoning isn’t painful or paralytic- you just pass out.
Nope. It’s just not in my makeup. I plan on going down swinging, holding on to every single breath.
Of course, if I could script my demise, I’d like to be shot but a jealous-with-cause husband at age 97. On the upstoke. With his 26 year old super model trophy wife. 
Absolutely. I plan on it too. Hell, if someone could give me a lethal injection, I’d be saying, “later, dudes. I’m outta here!”
My reasons for not having done it yet, aside from the fact that I’ve failed every time I’ve tried and don’t want to spend another week talking about my feelings while my poor little sisters deal with the stigma of having a crazy sister, mostly involve not wanting my family to have to find me and not wanting to risk failure.
And when I end up with a wrecked body, either due to nature or due to my own abuse of it, I’ll take the opportunity. There’s no way I’m sticking around to see all that.
I’m very wary of suicide, even in cases of personal misery. I don’t think I’d want to put such heaping guilt on my loved ones in addition to the devastation of losing someone close to them. I think even if they “know” why you killed yourself, most family members and friends are still going to have guilt to deal with.
A grade school acquaintance of mine did this a number of years ago.
Problem was, he didn’t stay disappeared for very long. I wasn’t there but I heard that identification of the body was extremely unpleasant.
Okay, I have actual empirical evidence to present here, having once killed myself via carbon monoxide poisoning. I had to be resuscitated, and by all accounts I was definitely gone. Apparently some wayward Good Samaritans looking for a secluded spot to screw in their car figured my car looked funny with the dryer duct snaking in the back window and called the paramedics. Anyway, it’s not a bad way to go at all. Stinky a bit, but if you drink a very lot of alcohol while you’re doing it it’s kinda fun.
Waking up with your chest hurting, a sore throat and vomit all over you, on the other hand, sucks hairy donkey balls. Can’t recommend this part at all. Not too impressed with the 72 hour “mental hold” afterward, either.
My 19 year old nephew in law pulled a Cobain and left it for his pregnant fiancee to find–can’t say it’s a better method, all in all. Very messy, very traumatic. Closed casket all the way, I’m just sayin’…
At any rate, having already done the dead trip and figuring out it’s not nearly as interesting as the movies would have you believe, I have elected not to try this particular feat again. However, if I get to the point where I’m in intractable pain and terminal, or I’m losing my mind, I will not hesitate to step out at a time of my choosing, and I must say it’s comforting to know I won’t have to resort to such crude methods again.
On the other hand, if I get diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, I’m armoring up the truck, throwing a 750 lb sheet of plate steel in the back for extra mass, bolting a railroad tie to the front bumper and going hunting for left lane bandits. One flash to pass ignored and it’s eat Armco, asshole!
I’m almost kidding… about the brain tumor part… heh… 
If I had a terminal illness but I were still operational during it, I’d want to live out my days, though with no heroic measures (i.e. at home with as few tubes as possible, please).
The following conditions would make me at least strongly consider it:
- Quadriplegia or other condition requiring complete personal care;
- Permanent massive disfigurement.
I’m fairly certain I am not strong enough to bear up under either of those conditions. The only exception would be if the cause of those conditions were such that I could make a life’s work out of using myself as an example to fight against it.
That’s why I need to figure out a way to bury myself
I’m in the “I don’t know until I’m there” camp. I strongly believe that people with terminal illnesses should be allowed to choose thier time and place of death, with medical assistance and family support. Loose ends all tied up, affairs in order, no muss no fuss. Would I do it? Not sure. Death frightens me, but would it if what I was going through was even scarier? I don’t know.
One thing I -do- know…this thread made me put down the cigarette I was about to light. I’d like a few more days to have to make that decision.
The idea of it appeals to me - I’d rather die a dignified a death as is possible, rather than live until I start painting shit on the walls, to borrow a Korean expression. I was too terrified to actually go through it during my sturm und drang years, but maybe I’ll have more balls (so to speak) when I’m older.
I considered it when I was 10. Evidently I got better
Will I ever again feel as useless as I did at that moment? I don’t know, hope I don’t, but if I ever do you probably won’t hear about it.
Er, the one with the garage would rather make it hard to avoid shocking the loved ones (unless it was a pre-arranged deal so they knew where they’d find you) - a relative, age 18, came home to find that his father had done just that. I think “shock” is an understatement there.
That said - yeah, I could certainly consider doing myself in if I were terminally ill or whatever. Would I actually go through with it? who knows.
Actually, I suspect this is easier to accomplish than you’re estimating. Considering the number of accidents where trained ditch diggers get into trouble with the ditch collapsing on them - I imagine simply digging the hole before performing whatever exit one wants, would provide sufficient chance for a good burial.
Now untracably burying yourself might be more problematical. To which I can only suggest abandoned mines, and small explosive charges.
Nope.
I’ll sign a living will and a DNR, and if terminal pain and indignity are an issue, they can keep me sedated and out of it, but I’m not going to go further than that.
Suicide just isn’t an option I’d take.
Suicide is always the simplest way out of a bad situation for the person committing the act. Once the suicide is done, his/her cares are over. I would take into account the effect on my survivors. Since I’m pretty sure that suicide would nullify any chance of my survivors collecting life insurance proceeds upon my death, I would avoid suicide. If I’m on my death bed with a terminal illness, I would ask that all medical care be suspended and no efforts be taken to resuscitate me if I go into cardiac arrest. But keep that morphine drip going so I wouldn’t suffer at the end. That would work for me.
In Larry McMurtry’s Terms of Endearment (which is nowhere near as cloying as the movie), Emma considers killing herself. She’s in the hospital dying of cancer & it seems to be taking an awfully long time. What she really wants to do is rip out the IVs, throw a chair out the window & follow it down.
She decides not to, because she figures that one of these days her (at that point very young) son would follow. Out of loyalty. Plus something about her belonging to her kids, that they got the last dibs.
I don’t know. The only thing that would definitely make me want to end it rather than surviving is extremely diminished mental capacity. Unfortunately, once I reach that point, I don’t know if I’d be able to make the decision. Physical ailments–pain, paralyzation, etc.–don’t really frighten me that much, but the idea of living out the rest of my life as a complete idiot, or as a senile old woman, or as a barely-functioning vegetable scares the crap out of me.
Well. Thank you for clearing that up. Another urban legend (or scary childhood story) gone from my brain.
I’m glad you made it back from the brink to share that nugget with us. Or me, anyway! Gee. Now I have another low cost option!
I’m now wondering where I heard my info. I’ve been misinformed! 