Hello suicide my old friend

 My wife and I got into an argument, it's clearly my fault-being sincere...I ruined a good evening, I hate myself...I am destroying my marriage this way because I'm a worthless piece of shit.

I wanted her just to come with me to the store afterwards and she wouldn't even do that. 

I am visualizing driving to the bridge I've picked out to jump off of, and wondering what the fall will be like, before I hit, how scared I will be, will I have the courage to face the water coming up to kill me or am I going to close my eyes and go feet-first?
I wonder if I could get something to take the edge off besides alcohol, in order to make it less frightening and painful?  Would I then be safe to drive to the bridge?

I want to die, and she keeps the guns locked up, so I jump...or go buy a shotgun when she's at work...

I'm tired of trying...I love and trust this woman more than anyone in the world but I can't make it work with her...and I don't know that I want to carry on without her.
On the other hand, the appeal with the bridge is that I have a good amount of time to think about it before I get there, so I can know when I do that I'll have considered my decision.

I almost feel like setting off to the bridge right now, but I'm not completely without hope...so I'll keep trying, for now...but when she leaves me, which I think will happen, I'll help her go, then get my affairs in order....

Maybe I'll feel better later...but right now I feel like I'm looking the end of my marriage in the face and I don't think I want to go on after it.

So if my wife finds this after I'm dead, not that she would, she's (thankfully) able to take death in stride...and that makes suicide an easier choice for me...

I could have bravely soldiered on without you, dear....but there are reasons why I chose not to.   I'm not happy out of a relationship, but I cause all sorts of bullshit in one.  I might have happy moments, but my life's not a happy one, never has been, never will be.  I am crippled by my fears, yet daily loathe myself for my lack of achievement, and I don't see me overcoming that.


In short, I was a smart, funny, waste of oxygen, and in a lot of internal pain all the time.

I felt like I owed you better than I had to give, does that make any sense? I love(d) you so much, that I felt like going on without you wasn't worth it anymore.


Not that I couldn't, but didn't, and that's not your fault, alright?  I nearly did  myself in any number of times when we were together anyway-I'm just not able to be happy.
So suicide was my choice, and you can hate me for that essentially cowardly choice as much as you want.  I'm dead. Do whatever makes life easier.