I'm thinking probably in about a month.
There's a lot more I wanted to get done before the time came, but my health is about to turn a corner beyond which I'm not prepared to go. And with the primary care doctor I currently have, I have no faith that the paperwork I'm doing will allow me to keep the meager benefits I've been surviving on.
I hope I can get a few more of my affairs in order. I'm not physically able to give my place a good cleaning, but I may be able to get most things into boxes that can just be thrown away. Pictures and souvenirs that people might want are in a separate, clearly labeled stack of boxes.
Quarantine has made it easier to slowly withdraw from relationships. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. I kind of hoped it would last a little longer. I went ahead and got my vaccinations, because it might have tipped people off if I hadn't. Who knows, maybe that will make the medical school more likely to accept my remains.
I didn't expect to be as scared or nervous as I am. It's what I've wanted for most of my life, and I know that rationally it's the best thing for everyone involved. But there you go. Putting it off has just made it harder.
It's my biggest regret that I wasn't able to keep my life insurance. It was such a comfort to me while I had it. There is some money that my family should be able to claim from a state pension; I checked with them to see if my survivors would be able to claim it and they said yes. But I'm sure it will be some kind of long, protracted fight. It really would have been easier for everybody involved if I had CTB a few years ago.
Anyone who thinks suicide is "the easy way out" has never really given any serious thought to that statement.
Funnily enough, one of the hardest tasks has been preparing a list of all my logins and passwords. And figuring out emails I'd like to queue up to send to a few people after I'm gone. I have a fear that my e-mail will be disabled as soon as I die. There's this myth that suicides don't care about the people they leave behind, but it couldn't be further from the truth.
If I had been born with a different body or in a different culture, I think I could have had a life worth living. But that's just not how it worked out. If I had realized how acutely life-threatening the two life-threatening Illnesses I've had were, and how close to death I was, I simply wouldn't have sought treatment.
And it's going to be a bitch getting a DNR on file without tipping anyone off. I've already lost the health care proxy forms I was supposed to file.
I watched Soylent Green again the other night. Why can't we have the option to die with dignity like the Edward G. Robinson character?
Anyhow, thanks for being there to listen and not judge.
