Treatment Records

1. Shotgun, head - 99% - 1.7 min  2. Toxins, cyanide - 97% - 1.8 min 3. Gunshot, head - 97% - 2.5 min 4. Shotgun, chest - 96.4% - 1.4 min 5. Explosives - 96.4% - 1.6 min 6. Impact, train - 96.2% - 17.9 min 7. Impact, great height - 93.4% - 4.6 min 8. Gunshot, chest - 89.5% - 7 min 9. Hanging - 89.5% - 7 min 10. Impact, car crash - 78.5% - 20 min 11.  Toxins, household - 77.5% - 24 min 12. Fire, self immolation - 76.5% - 57 min 13. Fire, structure - 73% - 52.5 min 14. Toxins, carbon monoxide - 71% - 21.5 min 15. Impact, automobile - 70% - 19 min 16. Electrocution - 65.5% - 2.4 min 17. Gunshot, abdomen - 65% - 69 min 18. Drowning, ocean/lake - 63% - 18.5 min 19. Stabbing, chest - 58.5% - 96 min 20. Cutting, throat - 51.5% - 15.5 min 21. Overdosing, illegal drugs - 49.4% - 116 min 22. Suffocation - 23% - 7 min 23. Drowning, bathtub - 21.5% - 18.5 min 24. Drowning, swimming pool - 21.5...

The rest of my life stretches out ahead of me like a dark, gaping void. No amount of plans can change that perception; I don't know what lay in the future. My life has no structure, and no goals, and nothing to work towards. I'm still just as unwell as ever, with no real access to ways of helping myself. No longer can I meet with a counselor whenever I want, or see a psychiatrist once a week, once every other week. I'm not okay. I'm fragile. I have to hide it. The real rub of all this is that that old urge - that deep desire  to no longer exist is stronger than it's been in a long time, and now more than ever, it would be easy for me to make myself disappear. It would be no challenge to take grams of salts with me, ride a bus out somewhere far away from home, walk into the forest, and be done with it all. It would be easy. I have the means. But I can't. Death isn't an option. I can't do that, not here, not in such close proximity to my family. Being so t...