I tried to kill myself on Wednesday. I woke up more certain than ever that I didn’t want to be alive anymore. I sat in the same spot for about six hours, talking myself up to it. I did the research long ago. I know that an ideal hanging requires a long drop, instant death, no pain. Failing that there’s apparently some way to constrict blood flow on the side of the neck, whereby you fall unconscious before you die, also no pain. The internet in its wisdom has censored the information on how to achieve that, so in my desperation the only option available is a simple, hang and choke. From what I’ve read it’s three minutes of intense pain, agony, clawing at the rope while your body fights to undo what your mind has set in motion. I timed three minutes. It’s quite a long time. I waited until my wife was leaving the house and told her I loved her. We’ve been fighting. She drove off and text me, please don’t do anything stupid, please, but went on about her errands anyway. I locked the front door from inside, so that she wouldn’t return and open it to the sight of me hanging in the hall. I know she’ll discover me but I thought the delay of the door not unlocking might help prepare her for the fact that something had happened and maybe give her some extra seconds to process and prepare. It would also delay anyone getting in to help me. Once the process has started I don’t want to be revived. I could end up brain damaged, or just back where I started, trying to talk myself up to doing it again. I wrapped a tow rope around the top banister, measured the height my head would be at and made sure my feet wouldn’t touch the floor. Then with it secured I placed a dining chair underneath it and knelt on the chair. The plan is to kick the chair from under myself leaving no way of supporting my weight, so that I can’t change my mind. I know it’s going to hurt, so I wanted to put all of my body weight onto my neck and the rope to see how much it will hurt, without initially kicking the chair away. Before I do I say goodbye to my cat and tell her I’m sorry. I love her, she won’t understand where I’ve gone. I put the rope around my neck and lean into it. I’m kneeling on the chair. I let all my weight rest on the rope, with my knees still just about touching the chair. I realise in this moment that the pain is going to be excruciating. I hope that I’ll pass out and not have to kick the chair from under myself. I don’t pass out. Some in built self preservation kicks in and I put my weight back on the chair. I didn’t kick it out. I realise that time has passed and there is too high a chance of my wife returning home and discovering me before I’ve died. I abort, for now. I feel like I overcame several hurdles. I have more information than ever. The final part is finding the courage and the will to kick the chair out. That will come from accepting the fact that pain will follow and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. There is pain everyday. It’s less acute pain, but no less real. It’s a trade, years of pain for three minutes of intense pain. I had pancreatitis once. I passed out from the pain. Maybe I’ll pass out again. That would make it easier. That possibility will be my focus next time. I’m writing this in the hope that it’ll be found on my phone when I’m gone, and people will realise this wasn’t a moment of weakness, but a long journey requiring strength, with the end goal of escaping pain.