My doctor asks " How do u want to **** yourself? "
I laugh silently.
She thinks I'm lying.
"The internet is very helpful" I reply.
Coldly, factually I  narrate the correct way to cut your wrists, cut your jugular, hang yourself.
Unemotionally I discuss taking my 180 benzoates with a bottle of *****, and how this is pretty unreliable.

She turns white.
'Hard to do when you're Indian', I think quietly.
My inner laughter becomes a little hysterical as I'm asked if I "want" a psychiatrist.

My inner scientific self analyses the idiocy of asking a suicidal person if they "want" help.

Oh well, if I ever find the strength to do it, she'll know that I knew how