I was suicidal around 6th grade, I was struggling at school and I felt like I was giving my parents more trouble than I was worth. I just hated seeing my mom so upset and angry all the time, (later I found out she had just quit smoking cigarettes, and was taking diet pills to keep from gaining weight, bad mix!). She really wasn't herself at the time, but she got better (years later) after she stopped taking the diet drugs. I blamed myself though, and she told me as much.
I got up on our roof a few times, but I was held back by the fear that my mom would be embarrassed if the neighbors saw my body (and upset that she had to clean up the mess). Then I found out that if you took enough Tylenol's you could die. I had everything set up, I cleaned my room and did the dishes, was nice to my brother, but when I went to school that day (I went to a private Christian school) we were told that people who commit suicide go to hell.
Well, that cleared up any thoughts of suicide. I didn't care how much trouble I caused my parents. They could suffer till I moved out. (Cue rebellious phase.) No way would I go to hell for eternity because my teachers were pissed that I read unrelated books in class and forgot my homework.
I think people who are dieing of disease, like inoperable cancer, or irreversible dementia or the later stages of AIDS, should be allowed to die if they wish. The slow, agonizing deaths those sort of things cause shouldn't be forced on people.
I also think that people who want to die because of personal reasons should be allowed to as well. Had it not been for my Christian beliefs I most certainly would have chosen to die, rather than suffer through years of neglect and physical abuse. Had I not learned that I would have gone to hell for it, I don't think I would have. It doesn't make sense to me that God would punish an eleven year old for something she didn't know.
I think that extends to other people as well, if you don't know God, or if you believe something different, whatever you believe will happen to you happens. And if you don't believe in anything, you get recycled, sent back to Earth in a new body to try again.
I have to say that I'm glad I didn't go. Life, in general, is hard, but worthwhile if you play your cards right. By struggling through the tough stuff, I feel like my life has earned value, the good times are sweeter. And when the hard times come again, I know that if I work hard and stick through it life can be easy again too.