I'm back from visiting my mother in SFBA. I'll be honest -- I do not want to end up like her. I don't want to be alone, isolated, dependent on others yet cognizant of those unpleasant facts. I'd rather take "the coward's way out."

Before you start worrying, I'm talking about eventualities, not anything imminent or even foreseeable.

I can think of three conditions where I would consider suicide.

When my body fails

Simply put, when I'm in constant pain, immobile or vegetative. Of course, barring the first case, the ability to execute on suicide is beyond me.

Then again, in the last one, I'm beyond caring. In that case, I've already left this mortal coil, my body just needs to turn out the lights.

When my mind fails

This one trickier. I could be in some state of dementia where I still want to live, but am living in an altered reality. I could not recognize my loved ones, see enemies everywhere, and suspect the worst of everyone.

I don't want to live like that. I don't want to live in fear, in an alien world. I don't want to inflict that pain on my loved ones. Again, I've already checked out of Hotel Humanity, just waiting for my bags.

When society rejects me

As I walked from my hotel to the convalescent hospital in SFBA, I saw one or two homeless. The one that caught my eye was adjusting his makeshift windbreak, a piece of cardboard, in the alcove he and his precious possessions called home.

No, this is not me advocating that he be "euthanized." This is not me even condoning his choice should he act on it. This is far simpler: if I were in his shoes, I would consider it. I am not even saying this is certainty. If I were, then I might.

Take the case of "the 20th hijacker," Jose Padilla. I don't know the conditions of his confinement. I'm sure that is classified, and our administration has denied the International Red Cross visitation, etc. All I know is one photo of him being tranferred to a court proceeding.

He was shackled, as is expected. He was also wearing restraint mittens, blacked out goggles, earmuffs and a filtered painter's mask. The net result of this is sensory deprivation. Past experiments (and documented results of police use of same) have resulted in "extreme anxiety, hallucinations, bizarre thoughts, depression, and antisocial behavior."

In this situation, I would most definitely consider it. Perhaps that's what the government wants, a tragic suicide, thus sparing the state a (potentially embarrassing) trial.

But that's a digression.

Basically, if I feel that society has utterly rejected me, that I have no opportunity contribute or benefit from it, that there is no likely change in the condition, that this is my fate until I die, then why deny it?

I'm sure there are others (perhaps the death of a loved one) but these three categories, as opposed to specific situations, come to mind as when I might consider it.