I feel more like there's a jailer inside my brain. I think most parts of me are agreed that we'd be better off out of this world. It's my conscience- over what it would likely do to my Dad- that holds me here against my will.
Really though, it was only the first few times I had suicidal thoughts that they felt intrusive. And that was really only because it had been ingrained into me that suicide was bad, sinful and cowardly. I pretty quickly felt like my thoughts were a rational response to my utterly shit life at the time.
But for me- life- or at least, the obligation to live is the tyrant in all of this. I suppose I have a leaning towards pessimism, cynicism, lethargy- that I do have to fight against in order to do what's expected of me- work, take care of myself, fulfil my obligations to others.
Suicide is simply the fire escape to me though. You never baracade a fire escape. Neither do I try and banish or fight my suicidal thoughts. I do however tell myself I can't act on them yet.