The reason for opening this up is because I find myself at the other end of the rope, wanting to live on and do more writing, yet feeling I may have only a few years left.
I don't intend to open all the boxes to my inner soul, those are my demons and as such, should stay locked away.
In my twenties I made a pact with my inner demons to end it all in a motorway crash, at the time I had no job and lived with my parents, whose main thrill appeared to be running me down-nothing I did was right and they always made me feel like something they had to endure.
This pact involved me learning to drive and going on the motorway, then at a set speed veering from the inner lane into a concrete pylon and dying in the aftermath of a burning inferno.
Even this pact was denied by fate, as I failed my driving test four times, and my late father always said I would have been a good driver as I dove defensively-waiting for somebody to make a mistake.