Goodbye, My note.
We all have our problems. Nothing particularly fancy about mines. I just don't want to keep on living how I am. I'm not willing to bet on it getting better. Not saying it's impossible, it's just gonna take a lot, and I would rather just move on to what's next. We're all gonna die, so do you have to squeeze me out for every drop of life I can possibly live? Not really interested in whatever logic anyone has to offer on why I shouldn't do it.
Just afraid of two things, Pain, and Post-Death Consequence. The main things that have held me back so far is the terror that consumes me when I think about how much pain I'll experience will be, and what will be on the other side of the door once I open up the gates of death. I don't particularly subscribe to a certain view on the subject, but unfortunately my mind has been painted with the cultures and myths of today's society, I mean, even just using my own imagination, it's not hard to conjure a situation that makes my current experience look like a paradise in comparison. I'm paralyzed and horrified and totally apprehended by the thoughts of what's to come next, what if it's an eldritch horror that makes Lovecraft look like Dr. Suess? Personally, I do not know the true nature of reality, and our experience that we call existence. I do not understand consciousness; I do not understand what it's like to be in a state of inexperience or inexistence. Maybe what will occur is outside all human comprehension. Something unfathomable. It's all speculation though, I won't know until I do it.*
* yeah yeah if it's inexperience then I won't know yadayada
Certainly, there is a "what" to my existence, there is an unrefutable "experience" occurring, some sort of 1st person experience, but what is of contention is the matter of "why" is there a why to my own existence? and I mean a why that answers narratively, I'm not asking about causal things. For that you could answer "why" I was born was due to my parent's fornication, but that is not the type of answer I'm looking for. If other people exist in the same way I think I exist, is there a "why" for their existence too? is there a "why" for the world?
Horribly afraid is what I am when I put the barrel of the shotgun to my forehead, it's the same type of fear I get after watching a terror movie as a kid and then having to go to sleep in my bed or move across a room or path in darkness. I cried, panicked. My mind was so good at crafting absolute horror as I sat in darkness after a scary movie.