A history of unquiet thoughts

You can tell I'm happy because I'm willing to talk about my darker side.

I first fantasized about suicide when I was six (1983 for anyone keeping track at home), and I remember staring out my window at the ground 30 feet below and feeling it call to me. I was saved by my own feelings of worthlessness, convinced I'd only screw it up and wind up paralyzed or comatose.

I last fantasized about suicide when I was 20, driving home from the second emotional blow of a very hard day. It was late, I was tired, and I assured myself that no one would ever know the car accident was intentional. Whenever I'm scared I still remind myself that I could have died in 1997 and that everything since has been a bonus.

I've mentioned my anxiety issues (http://vconaway.livejournal.com/95369.html), and for my entire life any setback would immediately prompt me to ask if it was time to end it yet. Even though I haven't seriously considered suicide in many years, the idea has always been there.

Recently, however, I've realized that I simply cannot allow myself the option. One of my life goals, to which I feel a deep spiritual calling, is to inspire and demonstrate that unorthodox paths can be fulfilling. A suicidal end would undermine everything else I've accomplished.

And so, after thirty years, I've finally closed that door.