I have just come from a Facebook community church I belong to. We were discussing assisted suicide. I said I was in favour of it because, when I commit suicide, I want it to be painless and not involve some poor person unexpectedly finding my dead body. You see, I am quite used to thinking and talking about the likelihood that my death will be chosen by me.

I forget that other people are not.

It hurts me that I have saddened several good people this evening by being blasé about my belief that I am more likely to kill myself than not. Other people hear that and they expect me to be on the verge of jumping off a bridge but I am talking years in the future. My illness, the PTSD and the anxiety and the SAD, seem to be worsening each year and, unless the EMDR works and the new medication works, there will come a time when I can no longer function. At that time, dying will be a kindness.

But that isn’t today – or even this year.