Here I sit again, in my room, in front of the computer, doing nothing, waiting out the hour for when I can try to take my own life. There is so much uncertainty in my plan right now, everything has to fall together just right. I don't care if my method is flawed or that chances are that it won't even work, I'm at the end of my rope and feel like I just have to do something to change my life, something I've never tried before. Something that is thrilling and scary all at the same time. To keep it short and partially within the guidelines of this forum, I'm going to overdose just as soon as my pills come in the mail, and I bought an awful lot. The wait is killing me, the worry is nagging at me. The constant worry that my pills will be intercepted at the door by my parents, that they will think I'm using drugs again, that I will be kicked out of the house and will have to go to one of two alternate methods: one requiring a hose from my exhaust tank to my car window, the other is to risk being arrested at some set in the beautiful city of Camden as I blow the rest of my money on a drug I've only taken once before. This just sucks. I'm ready to leave, and I want to go now. Why the hell do I have to be so picky about my method? I got into a fight with my father last night. It was a good fight, and if I needed any more convincing that I should be gone from the earth, I definitely got it. I'm recently unemployed and unfortunately have to live with my parents at the ripe old age of 33. The unemployment thing really bothers by dad. He told me last night that I look like a person that has given up on life and that maybe I need another rock bottom in order to get my ass in gear. He's extremely worried about having to support me once I finally run out of money, but most of all he is sickened at the sight of my depression. Its a very tough and complicated situation with him and I. We never got along, and always had a different point of view on just about every philosophy and way of life. Yes, I am depressed and I show all the the traits of a clinically depressed person. According to him, its nothing that a little hard work and gainful employment cannot take care of. He says that I I don't show him some kind of hope soon, that I will be out on the streets, hitting my next rock bottom, and maybe that will be enough for me to get my life together. But I can't think straight, I can barely even see straight, the pressure of doing my own laundry sometimes feels like too much to handle. I told him that he will be surprised with what I come up with. I didn't want it to come to this. I don't want to kill myself to spite him or anyone else, but that seems like what it is coming down to. I don't think he remembers that I was hospitalized last month for suicidal depression, I don't think the thought has ever crossed his mind, maybe he thinks that my 3 day hospital stay cured me. All he can see himself as is my meal ticket. The enabler who allows me to sit in my room all day unemployed while he goes out to work a stressful job that he loathes. If you want more info about this whole thing, read "my seasons in the abyss". I accidentally set it up as a poll so I think it chased alot of would be readers away, but that post is my suicide note, and those exact words will be showing on my computer screen when I am finally allowed to make this attempt. I am so bored and anxious today that I just feel like writing. I really don't need any advice. I've tried just about everything to remedy my situation. Now I'm just waiting to implement my solution. I've been pushed into a corner and can see no other way out. All of my other attempts at living a normal and happy life have failed. I've gone to hospitals, doctors, support groups, friends, family, websites, drugs, quitting drugs, Narcotics Anonymous, new jobs, new relationships, etc. It just seems that this thing follows me wherever I go and I cannot take it anymore. Maybe I'll OD and die. Maybe I'll wake up in the hospital. Maybe I'll just go to sleep for a week and wake up in my own bed (worst case scenario), maybe I'll get permanent organ damage and spend the rest of my life on dialysis, maybe I'll get committed to a psych ward for a few months, I don't care. Anything is better than this life that I have to live. Anything is better than having people around me not knowing or wanting to understand the seriousness of my situation. Something has to change, and if death is that ultimate change, then so be it. If anyone else has some interesting ideas about where I might end up if my plan fails, please let me know. I'm interested.