Why not take some chances, have some fun?

Travel. Play. Hike the Appalachian Trail. Go on a long bike trip. What else do you have to do?

Do something good for somebody.

Take sailing lessons and sail around the world. Take up mountain climbing. You might not survive, but your demise will be seen as a positive thing - he died doing what he loved.

Rather than waste time putting your affairs and possessions in order, why not have a bonfire and get rid of it all?

Exercise and, maybe, medication are the things that work for depressed people. Tropical islands can't hurt, either.

When you take care of yourself through such harrowing emotional pain that depression brings, it's really difficult to see the world outside you. But please, please take a look at that world. You think only a few people really care about you, but your death will affect more. Your brother may not get over it. What if your suicide causes his latent depression to come out leading him to do the same, and thereby ruining his lovely family. What if everything in "It's a Wonderful Life" was like your life, that all these people's lives depend upon you?

You are worth it. Not just for the connections to other people, but for yourself. There is a way out. Try different therapists, try different methods. Try travel, try exercise, try bungee jumping, get a pet to take care of. You have a way of writing that people like to read. Start a blog, grow a fan base, and then there are even more connections of people, who like us, can cheer for you to keep your head above water and keep trying. And gain strength for yourself from that.

Someone once said to me that suicide is the most selfish thing a person can do. And I remind myself of that any time that option crosses my brain.

I've been at the place where I didn't want to off myself before my mother passed on. In some ways, it's a good turning point to be at: this is where you take the time to figure out what you want to do for the rest of your life, however long it is.

You're laboring under one major misapprehension. 34 is not too late to start saving for retirement. In fact, if you start saving now -- 10-12% per year, assuming the market turns up -- you might well be okay if you get advice and regular, not retail, therapy. And if you're okay, you can afford long-term-care insurance, so you won't be a burden. So this particular reason for killing yourself doesn't wash. Believe me: I write stuff for 401(k)s and other such plans.

Death is in everyone's future, dammit. I'd prefer to be immortal and healthy and about age 39. Meanwhile, as Andrew Marvell says, "Although we cannot make our Sun/Stand still, yet we can make him run."

You have a brother who cares deeply for you. You're clearly concerned about your family. This shows that you have formed deep connections within the world. You're concerned about family and friends and not leaving them a mess to sort out. So you're a considerate person. At the same time, if you do follow through on this, considerate be damned: you will be leaving every one of the people you've bonded with with aching doubts the rest of their lives: what could they have done? why didn't they see? Why didn't you feel you could tell them?

The internet is a confessional medium, and you're confessing that you're crying for help. Okay. I hear you. You have a sense of humor; you're being analytical about this; you've still got the black beast of depression at bay. Congratulations. You've had this for awhile, or you wouldn't have thought this much out this far.

So okay, you have a right to test drive the idea of costing everyone who's ever meant anything to you and to whom you've ever meant anything everything in their lives connected with you so you can get some peace. That's your right.

I am asking you to consider giving equal time to planning out how you'd live a long and orderly and satisfying life: maybe not happy happy happy, but a worthwhile struggle against the black beast that will increase your self-respect, your physical health and when you finally drive it into its corner, a certain joy.

Everyone says shrinks and meds. They work, if you get the right ones. Start with a physician. Get the engine tuned up and get a referral. Play fair with the shrink. It's a lot of hard-earned money, too much to piss away on mind games. Give the pills, if you go on them, a chance to work: your letter shows you're task-oriented. You can stick to the regime.

TALK it out. WRITE it out. Take long walks and carry a notebook with you and come up with ideas. Surround yourself with things that please your senses and your mind. Don't try to do it all at once; don't expect to be happy all at once. This is a big ladder to climb.

Make yourself a list of people you can call when the beast bays. If there isn't anyone close, develop an online community.

These things -work- if you want them to. I know, not just from me but from the times I've stepped in.

Even if you do decide just to wait around until your mother dies, there's no reason you need to spend that time in pain or despair. Think about it, and make a plan to improve the quality of your life tomorrow, then the next day...

Enough lectures. Good luck. 34 is young to decide you're irrevocably bound to being miserable. I hate waste. I'd hate to see you cheat yourself.

... take into consideration that it's never too late to kill yourself but once you are dead, you can't come back. If you wait long enough, things will change and you'll be able to get past some of the issues that challenge you.

It may not feel like it most of the time, but you really do have what it takes to get through this alive. You can give in to the swirling black eddy of despair and end it all, but you'll just have to deal with it again later. No one gets out without confronting their demons and working through their issues.

You could turn your plan into a record of how you were able to move forward. It would serve as a reminder of what you've been through and proof of your survival ability.

Keep living LW, it gets better. It also gets worse, but over the long run, it gets better.

Peace.