I had a terrible family tragedy happen that tore everyone apart into 6 different clusters. My "family" is now my parents and my long time girlfriend.
The tragedy was so bad I can't live a day without thinking about it after nearly 5 years of therapy. I think of how lucky everyone else is that they don't have to bear it as long as I have to. They may have 5,10,20 years, but I may have 50-70.
When they're gone, I'm gone, so I don't have such a heavy cross to bear. I've come to terms with it and I live every day like it's my last.
This life has a lot to offer, and I'm seizing the moment... when it comes.
Who is to judge a logical, autonomous moral agent that makes a rational decision to end their existence? The U.S. stigma is terrible, but fuck it, if there's no one left and it's an end to your misery who cares?
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