Suicide is Painless

The problem I had with my nervous breakdown, was that those close to me were suffering from the same issues. My 12 year old daughter had died. Their sister had died. She'd died and we were left to grieve in a most painful way.
Nobody knew how to talk to us with any level of certainty, scared they'd say the wrong thing, so eventually they stopped talking at all. It was easier for them see?
Sitting in my bedroom on the Internet I was drinking a litre bottle of brandy and popping down di-hydrocodeine. I probably took about a dozen but I was up the next morning and cycled to work as usual. I wasn't aware I had attempted to kill myself the night before nor really cared.
The next attempt of course was a bit more organised.
As the depression of us all worsened and tempers flared in the midst of it, I registered i'd had enough.
I went down to the B and Q and bought myself twenty feet of rope. I took some time over choosing it. I didn't want anything to chaff my neck I had thought. Thinking of course wasn't in any way rational, but was becoming peaceful. the more I moved forward with my plan the less it became frightening and the more it became a matter of logic. A sensible solution to what looked like a future of nothing but drunken arguments and sadness.
I sat in a pub the night before and wrote a letter to my wife and each of my remaining children. I loved them of course. I loved them enough to remove, as I saw it, one of the obstacles in their route to recovery. Myself.
I drove my car down to the cemetery where my daughter was buried. A large old tree spread a branch over the drive.
I stood on the top of my car bonnet and threw the rope over. I secured the end to the tree then put the noose around my neck.
The plan was to push the car back with my foot so I would be left dangling. I looked around for a lat time and began to push. That was when the phone began to buzz and ring in my pocket.
I was awake in an instant. The car was slowly moving backwards and i struggled to get the rope from my neck.
It was my wife on the phone. I needed to come home and stop my son having a raging fit.
I was awake. I felt terrified at what I had almost done and headed home angry.
Up to that point, it had all made sense. No fear, no anger or bitterness. Just a calm acceptance.
I had to leave of course. It became obvious that suicide was not meant to be or even a solution, so I again in almost a haze, climbed aboard a plane with nothing more than the pack on my back and went to the States.
I am still alive of course.
No, suicide I guess is not the answer. But understanding that those who are suicidal see it as a very sensible and logical option needs addressing. Society really does not deal with grief or depression in any way of use to the sufferer that I have found, and grief cannot be fixed with sill platitudes and religious rhetoric. Dead is dead and final. those that are alive will continue until it is their turn. But no, there is no solution to death.
If you are suicidal, all I can tell you is I understand and if you contact me I will talk you out of it. But yes, I will totally understand.
Suicide can be painless, but it isn't an answer.