I would ingest potassium cyanide that I’d procure online or from a jewelery store. When I was young, I imagined myself using carbon monoxide fumes, but I don’t have a garage anymore. Sometimes, when I’m driving at night, I think a car will serve as well as a gun at 160km/hour, but it’s probably way too messy and uncertain. I’ve always wanted something as painless, clean, and quick as possible.
I’d do it in my house, and lie down in my bed in my boxers with the covers pulled over me. Probably listen to a playlist of Leonard Cohen’s albums from earliest to latest. If successful, it’d take three to five days for the police to find me, and it’d either be John or my work to call them. Maybe I’d set up some kind of trigger to call 911 after a day, so no one would have to deal with a gross decomposing body.
I have no idea if I’d leave a note. I can’t think of what I’d say.
Some people would be sad, but John would be most affected. It’d take him between one to three years to get over it. Everyone else would take less than a year.
John, Darren, Aaron, Louise, Rob and Mel, Pat and Jen, Trolley, my dad, possibly Joel, and maybe my uncle Joe would be at the funeral. Rana, Andrew and Alex, Jesse and Audra, Dan, Heather and Sergei, maybe even Frederic and Misun and my Tai Chi teacher, would be there too if they found out before the ceremony happened. My mom would be barred from attending. Any other family there would just be to make an appearance for my dad.
John would give the eulogy. I think he’d cry while delivering it, which would make me sad because I’ve never seen him cry before. Pat and maybe Aaron would want to say something too.
I’d let John decide what to do with my remains; whatever is easiest/cheapest for him to deal with. If I was cremated, I’d let him keep the ashes, but I’d allow him to give them to my dad if he chose to.
John would get almost everything in my estate; house, assets, RRSPs, life insurance policies, with the following exceptions:
- Darren would get Dolly, because he’s the one who would appreciate her most
- clothes would go to the Salvation Army
- all my computer equipment would go to Pat (aside from the Mac Mini and external drives, which would go to John for his home theatre system)
- Aaron would get my car and my Wacom tablet
- Frederic and Misun would get all my photographic prints (with the one exception below)
- Ryan would get my Canon Digital Rebel XT and 18-55mm lens and consoles
- Heather would get the rest of my photo gear
- My dad would get the painting Julie made of me
- My primary copy of the Tao Te Ching translated by Jonathan Star would go to Sam, my copy translated by Stephen Mitchell would go to the Tai Chi studio to be lent to anyone who wants to borrow it
- My copies of the Tao of Pooh, Te of Piglet, and illustrated copy of the Tao Te Ching by Martin Palmer, and Hoot would go to Bronwen
- My Mont Blanc Meisterstück Classique Rollerball, plant, and first copy of “Tomato Voice” would go to Julie
- My table tennis equipment and I Ching would go to Dan
- Jesse would get my ukulele
- My copies of Mind Over Mood and Reinventing Your Life would go to Jason
- My broadsword would go to Rob cause I bet he would think it was cool
And if my therapist ever found out, he would have wished that I continued my sessions.
I don’t know how to start this so I’ll just blurt it out… I don’t know you, but I’ve come to look forward to your posts and the last two have me very worried.
Please, please, please don’t.
E
Man, this post and the last are scary shit…I know you’re smarter than to do something like that, but I’m saying it anyway; stop even thinking about it.
i am not quite sure if you are actually thinking about carrying this action out, or if you are just in a state of mind where writing down such a thing is just a form of release; either way, i hope you know that you are a very intelligent man, and god dammit a wonderful one at that. i hope that you realize that how your parents made you feel when you were a child, that sense of insecurity and unimportance, is something that you didn’t deserve. i have been through it myself, and have the place to say that it hurts like hell to know that the ones whom you are supposed to look up to for your individual significance, just don’t seem to care. To have that feeling of security stripped out from other your feet is hard, and sometimes it feels as if you have no where else to turn. no one else to turn to. That’s when your self worth is diminished, and to call it quits seems easier than standing up and overcoming all the obstacles that other people ( as well as yourself ) have built over the years.
Life is just a cruel game we play. As unusual and bitter it may be at times, its better to walk with your head held high and laugh at all the trivialities that come your way than proving to the ones who have ridiculed you that they were right.
when you’re gone, what are you but a fallen flower in a field?
Love and keep living, Jeff. For your words are far too powerful to be forever at a standstill.
kasi
what a day– greg laswell.
It is guaranteed that you will die, so stop thinking about taking care of it yourself. Your therapist should find out. Please see him.
The thing is, I’m torn between being cautiously worried and appreciatively optimistic. Being that I share these thoughts with you on a regular basis, it’ll have to be the latter.
I get what you mean by quick and painless and for the most part (and the part where my OCD lies), I’d like it clean as well and not some splotch on the road or stain on the floor. So when I was younger, potassium chloride would have been my poison of choice. It gives you a heart attack and its easy to procure even if you were a 14 year old.
I envy that you could think of so many people that would mourn for you enough to say kind words. I can’t think of any…just family and a loved one for obvious reasons.
I did write my own eulogy too, posted it on my blog a year or 2 back. Didn’t trust anyone to be as eloquent with my farewell as I would have. Not that I know anyone who would speak for me at my own funeral.
Always kept a will though since I was young as well. Just in case it would have come to that point. Can’t imagine it being put to good use given the people that I know. It really got depressing to know very few people shared my own habits and hobbies.
Hey, you’re rational and sophisticated enough not to think about doing such a thing. You have more good friends and support than most people.
I’m not sure how to respond to all these comments at the moment. Right now I would only like to say that no one should be worried.
I’ve done pretty much the same thing you have here — and that was a few years back. It occurs to me I should update it, but really I have no interest right at the moment.
And that’s what I’d like to say: It passes. People get upset if you mention you think about it, so you ignore them and DO think about it.
For me, I realized that it was a desperate need to think that somehow, even if I were no longer here, the people I loved would be forced into thinking about me at last. They would get up off their asses and pay for a flight and come and attend something, even a cremation.
And now I guess I’m kind of past that. I realize I can’t expect even that. That might not happen. They might not even show up. Humans are humans.
All that matters really is that I get to make each moment into a jewel that I can set on a windowledge of light, whether it’s in my songs or what I make with my hands, or whether I make a comment to someone on a blog that might make them feel slightly more connected to the universe for one more day, something that makes that jewel split into colored light and glisten and mean beauty just for a tiny time, and make a dent somehow.
I just want to make a dent. And that will make me happy.
Now the thing is, you’ve made, and keep making, very big dents in me. With photos of sumptious food, with pictures of your parties, with videos of the ones you adored, even with beautiful, eloquent silent pain that you’ve suffered. And I for one would be far less for your lack.
I hope this is more of an exercise in creative writing Jeff … I am sure you have a lot of people perplexed! Myself included!
I’ve always thought you to be exciting and enthusiastic — loving life’s challenges and exploring new thought and your creativity. Am I wrong? Because if I am right … why the hell would you want to give everything up?
Man, here I was looking for a quote from the Tao of Pooh for a paper I’m writing in psychology about the profound and intense impact of positive daydreaming (you are what you think, after all), and this was the third choice for the search engine! Irony?