A few years ago, I had a series of health conditions that left me in unbearable suffering every moment of every day. At a certain point, when it was obvious that there was no probable way out, my mind reflexively starting tell me to kill myself. I would look at any menial object and my mind would automatically start considering ways I could use that object to end my life.

This went on for months, on and off. I wouldn't say I "endured" it, but I trained myself to just try to get through the next hour, or the next minute if things were really bad.

I'm much better now and that experience in many ways helped me, but I have no romantic feelings about it and I'd prefer if it hadn't happened. If someone had given me a painless out that I could trust back then, I almost certainly would have taken it. Instead, I learned acceptance in a pretty awful way.

I'm saying this for a specific reason: for many people, their suicide isn't some act of "giving up" or not being willing to endure; it's that some physiological process has begun that strongly urges you to do it every moment of every day. I understand why people have some anger or disappointment with loved ones who have died by suicide, but I personally do not feel that way. After what I experienced, I'm just happy that any of us get a chance to live in peace at all.