The Exit Plan

This planet has–or rather had–a problem, which was this:  most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much all of the time.  

from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

The number one cause of death for people with multiple chemical sensitivity is suicide.


There have been times when I've thought, I'm too tired to go on, I'm too miserable to care, I don't want to do this anymore.

Fortunately, I couldn't tolerate the ramifications of death. No more new movies to watch or music to discover, no great books to read or experiences to have. And as a believer in the inevitability of change, I can only hope life will get better next year or the year after. Suppose it does and I missed out? This is how one thinks when there is still a glimmer of hope. Ten years ago I never would have imagined I'd be living where I am today. Unimaginable, but here I am.

More importantly, I'd be forever the person in my family history too cowardly to live. People would feel sorry for me then ten minutes later return to their lives ...without me in it. Hey, wait, take me with you! Oops! Too late.  I would forfeit my right to life and leave a legacy of pity. And it seems incredibly self-centered and thoughtless. But I've thought about suicide. I'm pretty sure most people do, if not due to despair, just out of curiosity.

Years ago I devised an alternative suicide plan. If life got so unbearable I couldn't take it any longer, I'd hitchhike across the United States.  If I'm going to exit out, might as well have an adventure doing it, see some sites, meet weird people. Planning the routes and reorganizing my life into a storage unit would at least buy me some time. I might even change my mind in the interim. Or not. If not, then I'd pack my backpack, head to the nearest highway, and stick my thumb out.

If you have ever hitchhiked, you may remember the first time. We've all seen hitchhikers on the sides of the roads, in movies, in books, maybe feeling a bit of envy or longing for their rebelliousness or free-spirit nonconformity. But sticking your thumb out the first time is an experience in itself. You ask yourself with a little disbelief mixed with pride, "Am I really doing this?" "Am I now one of those people?" I hitchhiked through Europe a few times and I've got my stories. The adrenaline rush definitely makes one feel alive. I think everyone needs to thumb a ride at least once in their lives.

Back to the suicide mission...the United States of America is a dangerous place. Lots of lunatics free to wander and drive about. The real danger for a MCSer is a smelly driver. If the driver stunk, I'd say, Thanks, but sorry, you stink. If they all stunk, I'd walk the whole way with my thumb sticking out in the direction I wanted to go. If my instincts failed me and some crazy killed me, oh well. Then I'd be the person in my family history who was a daredevil.  She died doing what she loved.  Mission accomplished. Life is over. 

Granted, I understand the glitch in my plan would be lack of energy or debilitating illness, but I still think an adventure is more productive than suicide. The adventure would be so much fun I'd forget about the mission.


Sylvia Browne says if you commit suicide, you are reincarnated right back to live the life over again. Nope, not happening. I'm not repeating this life....

Hitchhiking across the USA is also my plan if I'm ever homeless. I'll sleep under a bridge if I have to, but I'd rather do it somewhere exotic...and warm.