Forgive the disposable account, I am a long-time registered user with high karma but even I think that once in a while there is a topic that requires anonymity (or at least further pseudonymity).
I do not feel I suffer from depression, yet I think of suicide frequently. Frequently as in, once every couple of days to several times a day, for as long as I remember.
Frequently these are just passing thoughts, of how I might do it, or of an opportunity not taken. Other times these are serious considerations and the weighing up of why not to. I don't pause on "why to" as I can answer that instantly every time.
Ultimately I conclude every time that life isn't worth living. It never has been, and never will be. But yet, to experience it is a gift and I should experience as much of it as possible before the end. To experience life is the only reason I can think of to live.
I always remember Camus, I always am mindful of the Myth of Sisyphus.
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The Myth of Sisyphus (1943) – If there is a single non-fiction work that can be
considered an essential or fundamental statement of Camus’ philosophy, it is
this extended essay on the ethics of suicide (eventually translated and repackaged
for American publication in 1955). For it is here that Camus formally introduces
and fully articulates his most famous idea, the concept of the Absurd, and his
equally famous image of life as a Sisyphean struggle. From its provocative
opening sentence (“There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and
that is suicide”) to its stirring, paradoxical conclusion (“The struggle itself
toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus
happy”), the book has something interesting and challenging on nearly every
page and is shot through with brilliant aphorisms and insights. In the end, Camus
rejects suicide: the Absurd must not be evaded either by religion (“philosophical
suicide”) or by annihilation (“physical suicide”); the task of living should not
merely be accepted, it must be embraced.
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