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Abstract

up of my nuclear family.Which is something that I just cannot comprehend or accept even though it is real and permanent. I will never be happy again, although I have a few decent moments here and there.I shall repeat something that I previously wrote, had I carried through with what I seriously contemplated twice and was close to doing — not attempting, but doing — there would have been hundreds of shocked people. I am very well-known in the city that employs me and among the development community in general.Only a few people closest to me would know why, and everyone else would be shocked and say things like “I thought he was very happy” and “I had no idea what he was going through” and things like that, that people say when people like me carry through with (I’m just going to write it) suicide.I’ve come to realize that the best way for me to feel content with remaining alive right now, through everything I have to deal with, is to tell myself that someday I’ll be able to have an out. Someday when I’ve made enough money to take care of the people I love or do anything else that would actually make the world a better place, I could find a peaceful place and a way to end it all.It’s odd, but thinking about that outcome is the most peaceful feeling I’ve had over the past four months, knowing that there’s an end to the tunnel that I’m in. It might not be in a month, a year, or even five years. But I know that it is there waiting for me.It isn’t going to be any time soon, so in the meantime, I will do my best to live out my life selflessly.I wish to reiterate that the things that I write about and am known for in my real life and my online life are real, although I have changed my investing strategy. That, in itself, is something that I now struggle mightily with and that others who write about personal finance do not address. How could you?Just an example: I wrote <a href="https://readmedium.com/delaying-social-security-is-a-scam-cff3e2f5942">this story</a> about taking social security upon reaching the age of sixty-two, which is something that I would do should I reach that age. Should I remain among the living until this Thanksgiving, I will have reached the age of fifty-three, so sixty-two remains nine long years away. I can’t even imagine sticking it out for that long, but stranger things have happened.Writing frequently about personal finance here on Medium and on other platforms over the years, it has become very hard for me to contemplate investing for some unknown, nebulous future that I can no longer envision, but I take heart in

Options

thinking that I can leave detailed instructions so my wife, who knows and cares little about the topic (she spends; I earn and invest), knows about my many accounts and how to access them.I am not a wealthy man, but I do have quite a few accounts. I don’t actually want to count how many, so let’s just call it eight.But how many people write about taking social security at the age of sixty-two while doubting that he or she will choose to live that long, God willing? Of course, I could always be mowed down by a truck while walking or gunned down while grocery shopping, or struck with cancer.Or I may not have the will to go on for that long.I know — it’s seriously fucked up!But I do want anyone who reads this far to know that I will remain serious about walking — I am averaging nearly ten miles per day this year, and I continue to work diligently at my job even though in my heart I don’t give a rat’s hairy ass about the economic development of my city anymore and I am also having myriad other problems.<figure id="cd76"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*r0k_sCH4PagiuAtWO_Uq1Q.jpeg"><figcaption>I have averaged nearly 10 miles per day this year. Snip from the author’s Fitbit app.</figcaption></figure>I’ve been thinking about how abnormal those feelings are, and how backward my life has always been to the point that the closest I get to happiness is reminding myself that someday I can stop struggling.I hope to be able to keep going until I’ve made a difference in the world and maybe even beyond that but do other people feel this way?I am not seeking sympathy. I do not deserve it. But since this story is obviously not SEO-optimized, won’t help you improve your own life, and does not fit neatly into any particular box, just think of it as someone whose soul and spirit have been crushed, yet who seeks a reason to get out of bed every single morning, but who would look and seem perfectly normal if you met the real me, sharing his true innermost thoughts.Now excuse me while I further contemplate when and how.Editorial Insert: If you are experiencing thoughts of suicide or self-harm, we encourage you to contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1–800–273-TALK (8255). This lifeline is free and confidential. It is open 24 hours a day and provides support, information, and local resources to anyone in suicidal crisis or emotional distress and those around them. Call for more information or visit <a href="http://www.suicidepreventionhotline.org/">www.suicidepreventionhotline.org</a>.</article></body>

Is it Okay to Be at Peace With Planning to Someday End It All?

Not looking for sympathy, just sharing thoughts

Photo by christopher lemercier on Unsplash

This is not a story that I ever thought that I would write, let alone even contemplate. Yet here I am writing it and if you have clicked on it, you just may read it.

What I have been thinking about is if it is okay to be at peace with planning to someday end your life.

I’ve been dealing with my depression for just under four months now. I know that some other people deal with it for years, including some of those close to me. But it is completely new to me.

I have always ALWAYS been the one that others count on for strength and I frequently preach things like perseverance, grit, resilience, and determination like my forefathers exemplified.

Raise Your Resilience

It’s a timeless attribute

medium.com

But now I have come to an odd place in my life right now and it doesn’t really matter because I only care about making life better for the people I love. It is unfortunate that you cannot undo the past, but it is a cold, hard fact that I have to come to accept for whatever time I remain among the living and breathing.

I drag myself out of bed every morning and get to work by telling myself it’s all for them because doing it “for me” just isn’t motivational. I find myself looking forward to the work week more than I look forward to weekends, and that is (like most people) the polar opposite of how I have viewed things for thirty freakin’ years of working for the Man.

My daughter and wife insisted that I go into therapy about six weeks ago, after the second time that I hit rock bottom. The first was when a certain situation that I shall never share hit the fan in late April, essentially causing the permanent breakup of my nuclear family.

Which is something that I just cannot comprehend or accept even though it is real and permanent. I will never be happy again, although I have a few decent moments here and there.

I shall repeat something that I previously wrote, had I carried through with what I seriously contemplated twice and was close to doing — not attempting, but doing — there would have been hundreds of shocked people. I am very well-known in the city that employs me and among the development community in general.

Only a few people closest to me would know why, and everyone else would be shocked and say things like “I thought he was very happy” and “I had no idea what he was going through” and things like that, that people say when people like me carry through with (I’m just going to write it) suicide.

I’ve come to realize that the best way for me to feel content with remaining alive right now, through everything I have to deal with, is to tell myself that someday I’ll be able to have an out. Someday when I’ve made enough money to take care of the people I love or do anything else that would actually make the world a better place, I could find a peaceful place and a way to end it all.

It’s odd, but thinking about that outcome is the most peaceful feeling I’ve had over the past four months, knowing that there’s an end to the tunnel that I’m in. It might not be in a month, a year, or even five years. But I know that it is there waiting for me.

It isn’t going to be any time soon, so in the meantime, I will do my best to live out my life selflessly.

I wish to reiterate that the things that I write about and am known for in my real life and my online life are real, although I have changed my investing strategy. That, in itself, is something that I now struggle mightily with and that others who write about personal finance do not address. How could you?

Just an example: I wrote this story about taking social security upon reaching the age of sixty-two, which is something that I would do should I reach that age. Should I remain among the living until this Thanksgiving, I will have reached the age of fifty-three, so sixty-two remains nine long years away. I can’t even imagine sticking it out for that long, but stranger things have happened.

Writing frequently about personal finance here on Medium and on other platforms over the years, it has become very hard for me to contemplate investing for some unknown, nebulous future that I can no longer envision, but I take heart in thinking that I can leave detailed instructions so my wife, who knows and cares little about the topic (she spends; I earn and invest), knows about my many accounts and how to access them.

I am not a wealthy man, but I do have quite a few accounts. I don’t actually want to count how many, so let’s just call it eight.

But how many people write about taking social security at the age of sixty-two while doubting that he or she will choose to live that long, God willing? Of course, I could always be mowed down by a truck while walking or gunned down while grocery shopping, or struck with cancer.

Or I may not have the will to go on for that long.

I know — it’s seriously fucked up!

But I do want anyone who reads this far to know that I will remain serious about walking — I am averaging nearly ten miles per day this year, and I continue to work diligently at my job even though in my heart I don’t give a rat’s hairy ass about the economic development of my city anymore and I am also having myriad other problems.

I have averaged nearly 10 miles per day this year. Snip from the author’s Fitbit app.

I’ve been thinking about how abnormal those feelings are, and how backward my life has always been to the point that the closest I get to happiness is reminding myself that someday I can stop struggling.

I hope to be able to keep going until I’ve made a difference in the world and maybe even beyond that but do other people feel this way?

I am not seeking sympathy. I do not deserve it. But since this story is obviously not SEO-optimized, won’t help you improve your own life, and does not fit neatly into any particular box, just think of it as someone whose soul and spirit have been crushed, yet who seeks a reason to get out of bed every single morning, but who would look and seem perfectly normal if you met the real me, sharing his true innermost thoughts.

Now excuse me while I further contemplate when and how.

Editorial Insert: If you are experiencing thoughts of suicide or self-harm, we encourage you to contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1–800–273-TALK (8255). This lifeline is free and confidential. It is open 24 hours a day and provides support, information, and local resources to anyone in suicidal crisis or emotional distress and those around them. Call for more information or visit www.suicidepreventionhotline.org.