I once thought that if I ever lost control of my mind in a big way then this would cause me to end it all. Then time went by and I saw many examples of really ill people going into work. One person was paralyzed from the neck down but she had a computer job. Another one was a woman who talked out loud non-stop, cussing and swearing, fuck this fuck that, as she went into work, dressed very professionally. After seeing that, I started thinking that I would work too even if the worst happened.
The only time I would ever commit suicide is if I am mortally wounded and I give the order to leave me behind and buy my buddies a few minutes of escape. I rig myself and booby trap my body if I am moved with as many explosives as I possible can and hold the trigger. I wait for my enemies, zombies, or monster to come and get me and then smile as I say a cheesy one liner before I blow them and me to kingdom come.
Been there, tried that. Apparently, for me, it took my dad dieing when I was 17, feeling like I didn't have time to grieve because I was in the middle of my senior year of high school, and like I couldn't because I wanted to be strong for my family, then going to college and working my butt off, becoming severely depressed because of my grief and college stress, and then going through several relationships that I cared deeply about and didn't work out. Among other things.
However, I'm so very glad that my attempt failed, and I'm thankful for the drugs and therapy I went through to get back to thinking logically and wanting to live.