-The loss of my relationship with my mother. Whether insanity or dementia, she has succumbed to it. She is all but dead to the world now. We used to be inseparable, and our fates were linked in many ways. Now we have drifted apart----but I am slowly letting go of my hold on this world. Perhaps when my mind too has been consumed, we will be finally at peace with each other because I will be able to understand her (and everything she has been through) in my heart. Who knows? Perhaps I will follow her into death. Or perhaps I will win the race to the grave.
-I have no intrinsic value to anyone else in this world. If I wish to have any value to anyone, I must fulfill all sorts of expectations, responsibilities, duties, and rules---all things which often force me to suppress my natural inclinations.
-How much of my life I have wasted.
-Advancing my life any further entails a constant, daily struggle for survival. There is always the threatening possibility that I might be dragged under the waves at any minute. I always feel myself at the edge of some awful precipice. And I don't think my mind can take it.
-I don't think I can make any meaningful contributions to this world. In that case, might as well die, right?
-The fact that I have to make preparations for my death with virtually no practical support from anyone I know in real life. Because I can't tell them! And this will never change as long as society continues to vehemently reject the concept of sanctioned suicide.
-The prospect of having to face my fear of eternity.
Etc, etc, etc.