For those of you who have contemplated it--or contemplated contemplating it, at one level of abstraction--there is one sense in which the prospect of suicide is freeing. It is this. If you got to a place where you felt that it was all worthless, worthless enough to throw it away, then that stuff that was so heinous as to be worth throwing it all away, must in some way also be worthless, and so. So it can be a kind of reset, this thinking, this process, this contemplation, though I don't urge it on anyone, and certainly don't want it for the sake of clarity.
Just sayin: if it is worth ending it all, nothing matters. If nothing matters . . . it might not be worth ending it all.
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