I'll get to Heath Ledger. It's not what you probably think.

It's a bit of a convoluted route to Heath Ledger (dad-gum Asperger's!

).
It's probably best if I bullet point the triggers.
- Horrible financial situation.
- A lot of work that needs to be done on the house that I have neither the money nor the physical ability to do. I fear the coming winter, having had four incidences of burst pipes the past two winters.
- Fear of not having money put away for emergencies such as truck repair, veterinary bill should one of my "kids" get sick or hurt. I can't keep expecting the gods to rescue me.
- A job I detest; I regret having accepted the offer to stay on when the rest of my IT division was outsourced. I passed up a severance package that was full salary for 36 weeks, plus being able to find another job. I did this thinking it was the right thing to do. The money would have gone billions of parsecs towards resolving item #1. Actually it's not so much the job, but my new boss I can't stand. She's a royal and colossal pain in the ***. I miss my old boss, who is my friend and big brother of 31 years. We always had each others' backs... one lied, the other swore to it.

Based on my salary my husband (I'm a gay guy) would get a very handsome insurance payment upon my demise for accidental death. He could pay off the mortgage (though he says if anything ever did happen to me he'd take the kids, walk away from the house, and start anew). He'd be taken care of. Not to mention the pay off from the results described in the next paragraph.
Now we come to Heath Ledger and his untimely demise. He died of what is known as Combined drug intoxication. It is a situation usually ruled accidental and not suicide. It's not an overdose, but a lethal combination. People here may or may not know this, so forgive me if I sound condescending about it.
I think this is just an escape fantasy as my therapist has pointed out.
She looked at me with a look of horror and said "you really have this worked out!" I said "I'm a computer analyst, what the **** do you think!?"
Do I truly want to do this? No. It would devastate my husband, who does not deserve this. Besides, you can't kill me. I'm resistant to almost all meds. I can take some of them together and I just get loopy, like a drunk buzz. If I take another kind, I'll get sleepy. I
can get drunk, but then I throw up.

I think being 220 lbs has something to do with my resistance to drugs.
I categorically and unequivocally do not condone, endorse or advocate that anyone do this. Having said all this, I feel somewhat better; not perfect but a bit better. I think I needed to vent.