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An acquaintance's husband committed suicide a couple days ago.
They have kids aged 10 and 7, both with autism. She's been a stay-at-home mom since the older one (who is low-functioning) got diagnosed as a toddler. She manages a small amount of income from some rental properties, but is otherwise up shit creek.
But never mind all that. I get it. Depression lies, the suicidal person may genuinely believe that his loved ones would be better off without him, or that there simply is no other choice. Okay, fine. But I'm pissed because he did it in the house where his fucking kids could find him, and that is bullshit. Your depression may tell you that your family is better off without you, but if it tells you that your children with severe anxiety issues ought to stumble upon your mutilated body, you've got some other shit going on.
Drive off a cliff. Threaten a cop and get him to shoot you. Rent a goddamn hotel room. Or at least do it with pills so they're only partially horribly scarred for life. Jesus Christ.
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