I'm new to this forum as of last night. Kinda funny how reading other people's issues makes me think it will pass and there is a better way than suicide. Yet, for me I cannot. My entire life I have been the survivor, the fighter. In some ways I relished the title b/c it meant I had strength. I can remember wanting to die on my 10th birthday as I hid in a closet. I remember thinking, there is just no way way I could endure my life until 18. I cannot ever remember feeling suicidal yet just wished to not wake up. But that changed 1.5 years ago while on vacation at the beach. The beach, interestingly enough had always been one of the places I felt the most peace in recent years. Yet, suddenly that changed for no apparent reason. The urge was quite strong. I told my GP and we switched up meds. Long history on anti depressants since my youth. Childhood abuse and neglect, the gift that keeps on giving. I'm now 40. Look like I'm 25-30 (good and bad). Married for 20 years this year (minus our 2 year sabbatical 10 years ago when I left). We ultimately reunited for our youngest whom was displaying much worse special needs than we had originally realized. He's now 18 in college and diagnosed as Aspbergers ( high functioning with strong difficulties in perception and social skills). The reuniting worked well for many years, surprisingly enough with no outside counseling. But all that changed after a freak accident 5 years ago. In a home improvement store a 10foot steel pipe was launched and struck me in my frontal lobe. This one event destroyed so much of my life. Traumatic Brain Injury meant excruciating migraines, terrible deficits in speech, balance, sleep, focusing and so much more. Now after 3.5 years of cognitive and rehabilitative therapies, I am doing much better-physically speaking, compared to the first few years following the injuries. But here is where I cannot cope: I am 75 pounds heavier, I now have Fibromyalgia (head trauma gift) that means I live on pills, my creative process which had been fucking brilliant is barely functioning. My short term memory is chit. I can only work 3-4 days a week due to exhaustion/fatigue issues. My husband is a brooding, hot tempered crank of a man, whose constant negativity is fucking killing me. He cannot speak unless negativity is coming out 85% of the time. I end up avoiding him and walking on pins and needles for everything. We just do not mesh, I'm not really sure we ever did. I know I loved him so very much but his constant Debbie Downer role has severely taken its toll on my love n care for him. He won't make any changes or even try. I'm trying so hard to stay positive to grow my stamina and make it all work, constantly, but he is killing me slowly everyday. I cannot leave. The most I am earning right now is $550 a week (when I'm lucky). I'm not very consistent due to having bad health days (luckily my out of home job as a freelancer is conducive to my situation). I do love my freelance position and I think that has kept me alive a little longer. He knows how I feel and he does feel badly. I think the years of struggling to pay this mortgage and doctor bills for me and two kids has completely drained him. We got a small settlement under 30k ( yes, good people with legit traumas all the time get little to zero in lawsuits, so don't even get me going). But that is gone just to keep this house. He won't move or make any changes. He is resigned to working, eating, sleeping, period thee end with zero in between. I refuse to stay with him just because I have no other options. I cannot fake it or use someone just to take care of me. I grew up wealthy and have already happily dumbed down my lifestyle to the very least that I am willing to live with in our situation. Which btw, I could do forever if I am in love n loved by my partner. Money is not the reason, just a factor. So, I figure I can end the chronic pain -physical and mental with a suicide on my terms. The only thing stopping me, is my boys. I want to get a few things in order for them first. I just want it to look accidental so that the kids are not left with any of the painful feelings that come with a suicide. The truth is I am tired. (I know many of you abuse survivors get this ). I'm tired of the wishing and fighting for small pockets of happiness. My life is worth more than that to me and I'd rather, do what feels most comforting, which is to sleepily euthanize myself my way so I can stop mourning the me I used to be.