My spouse now has the instructions for making my dog's special diet, and honestly, that's the only information I think anyone really needs from me.
People who genuinely know me will not be surprised. Some, I think, may even be happy for me, and for my finally having slipped the surly bonds.
My husband will be gutted, but he'll be mourning a mental construct of me that bears only passing resemblance to the actual me, and given that he hasn't had much desire to learn who I really am during the last two decades, I see very little point in trying to educate him now.
I do have a bit of an impulse toward tidiness, so I sort of feel like leaving behind a sheet of three-ring binder paper that just says something along the lines of, "Yep, it's a suicide! Later, skaters!"* as a way of adding a piece of terminal punctuation to my life.
But I won't do that. Probably.
* Also considering: "Meep, meep! That's all, folks!" or possibly one of those folksy "Gone Fishin'" signs you find at truck stops, but with the "Fishin'" part crossed out.