just for the record:
I know that if I killed myself, there would be a considerable impact on certain people. I know my worth to the people around me, and yes I would still go ahead and do it if that was my choice, and I would leave it to them to deal with it and move on. I think of all the times before I could have done it, and I imagine the sorrow or shock it would have caused, and then I think of now, October 2003; life would have gone on.

I don't think many people would be too surprised by the news. Most people know at least something is up, if only because of my arms. No one asks anymore, I don't really hide it anymore. Anyone who is completely surprised didn't know me at all and don't really matter maybe. For everyone else, the shock of the news would be somewhat abstract. They hear the news, they're shocked, they're saddened, maybe shaken, but it's abstract; there's no fundamental impact or shift to their lives.

Ritu was my boss, but we were chummy and hung out after work a lot. When she killed herself, it was a shock and a surprise. I always imagined myself as being able to keep emotionally detached from things like that, but you can't prepare yourself for something like that. It's impossible to imagine what it feels like when someone dies. And having gone through it, I can't even bring myself back to feel that feeling again.

I had spoken to her on the phone just days before and she sounded upbeat and was looking forward to returning to the firm. I got the news from one of the attorneys that was close to her. She knew we were kinda close and was putting it to me to tell the rest of the team. I immediately got into responsibility mode and sucked it up and accepted what I had to do. Then I went back to my cube to send an email for the team to meet up, and as soon as I got there, I lost it. My cube neighbor had to take me outside and it took 15 minutes sitting on the curb before I could collect myself to even tell her what happened.

So there was the immediate impact and shock, but quite honestly, in the big picture, her suicide was fairly abstract to me. She had already dismissed herself from the firm, she was back home in New York getting treated, I was already re-assigned to another team, we were as chummy as a boss and an underling could be in the year we knew each other, but we weren't great friends. There was no material change in my life, except knowing that Ritu was gone. I don't consider the future possibility of meeting up again a material change. Losing that is too bad, but the future is always uncertain, so I don't consider it material.

Do I miss her? Yes. Do I wish she were still around? Yes. Would she have enriched my life? Probably. Do I hold it against her that she left? No. I also missed my chance in the days she was spiraling out of control to proactively help her. I kept my distance. I don't blame myself, but I can't blame her either then. I made my choice, she made hers. If society condemns her, it should condemn me and all of us who were close to her.

My role in the lives of all the people around me is at some level of abstraction. There is no one in my life who would experience a material change in their lives because of my leaving. I'm not saying there would be no or minimal impact, I'm just saying that it would be abstract and temporary. It would be news to receive, react to, process, but then move on.

For some people, I anticipate a huge emotional reaction, great sorrow, flatter myself not, and maybe it would last a long time, maybe it would create a hole in their lives, maybe they would never fully get over it and they'd be sad every time they thought of it. But none of those people are here in my life, direct, non-abstract.

The people who are here in direct contact in my life aren't close. They are abstract, very much like my relationship with Ritu. They'd feel the shock and have to go through their emotional response, but no material change in their lives. There's no one I hang out with regularly. They're all at arms length. And whenever we do hang out, it's nothing deep or meaningful; often annoying or aggravating.

These people don't even know me, so any lingering feelings, I'm sorry, are their own responsibility. I'm not responsible for them, just as they are not responsible for whatever led me to my decision. You can say that they're the ones who have to deal with the fallout, but gimme a break, I'm the one who's dead. Shut up. I don't think it's over when I die, and it is with apprehension that I find out what's next.

I don't want to diminish how my parents will feel, I expect that they will be devastated, but our relationship is still at some level of abstraction. They don't know me or anything that's going on in my life, and they don't play an active role in it. I hated them for most of my life, and we're only cordial now because I unilaterally decided it should be so.

None of the issues were ever addressed, allowing them to be complacent about them. I won't bring them up now to try to get to some resolution, because the war ended up as a no-win stand-off, and I have no reason to believe that bringing them up anew would not just lead to that same uncomfortable and tense stand-off.

I decided to cut my losses and heal in my own way, and this is it. I'm still suicidal as I've always been (or think I am or act like I am, after all I'm still alive), but I gave them years of feeling that I was behaving like a real son. I have conversations with them instead of making our phone calls strained, with me giving one word answers and little information. Years of visits where I wasn't cold and stiff, letting them know I was only there out of my feeling of obligation, returning my feeling that they only raised us out of obligation and social expectations.

And it's real. I didn't do that out of spite, to make it even worse for them when I die, gimme a break. In my old age, I give it to them that they did an OK job raising us, they didn't do a bad job. All families have issues. That doesn't diminish the abstract nature of our current relationship.

And I know that the "no material change" yardstick doesn't apply to parents or brothers. Raising me and growing up with each other are enough for my death to create a definite material change in their lives. But for my direct life now, our family bond is of blood, and of cold comfort and little solace to my soul. They can figure out the rest for themselves, I think they love me enough to do so.

There are many people who think I'm a special person, but I'm not special to anyone. By special, I mean that they want to know me and they want me to know them. I had a class of people who I was considering separately, people who aren't in my physical life, but were deep in my heart. But I just found out that my feeling of closeness with one of them was my own creation and not based in reality. I assumed it with her, and probably with the others, too. I don't doubt the love or the importance, but I no longer believe they are any less abstract than the people physically around me. Distance prevails to enhance the abstraction.

I have no partner or spouse, no kids or pets, no one I'm responsible for or co-existent with, no co-workers, roommates, or bandmates, no one is relying on me for anything, no best friend forever, no "best friend" for that matter. Again, I'm not saying I have or will have no impact, but these are the facts.