I get it. You want to live out your days in anonymity on a remote beach. You’re picturing a life without burdens, debts, or responsibilities. But first things first. You need a plan.
It’s not as easy to disappear as it used to be. Surveillance cameras are mounted on every corner and tucked into every pocket. No one slips through an airport unnoticed, particularly if they’re traveling internationally. This is no time for whimsy.
THE PLAN
You’ll need cash to start your new life. It’ll look suspicious if you make a large withdrawal prior to your death, so start socking away some money now. A few thousand dollars is enough to get started. Just remember that you can’t use a bank card anymore, so you’ll have to carry this with you.
Work on getting a high-quality fake id. Try to get it now, because you’ll want to lay low afterwards. Pick a normal name and a common place of birth. The idea is to arouse as few suspicions as possible.
I shouldn’t have to mention this, but you can’t take your cell phone with you. You won’t be able to make phone calls or texts anymore. You’ll have to stop making status updates on Facebook. Twitter and Instagram are for the living. This is part of the allure of faking your own death, isn’t it? You can finally disconnect from social media once and for all.
Speaking of social media – don’t say anything out of the ordinary before your death. You can’t start suddenly sharing your feelings and telling people how important they are. Unless, of course, you are planning to kill yourself.
Yes, suicide might be your best bet. Accidental deaths raise a lot of questions. With suicide, everything is more clear and the authorities won’t be as thorough looking for your body. It will be hard on your family. Harder than an accidental death, even. But they will still stand to benefit from your life insurance policy. I know the movies all say that life insurance doesn’t pay out for suicide, but the movies are wrong.
Consider throwing yourself off of a bridge. It should be high enough that survival is improbable. If at all possible, the water below should be icy. The search party will give up sooner if the water is painfully cold.
The temptation to attend your own funeral will be intense. Resist it. Nothing good can come of seeing other people grieve for you. You’re likely to either feel sorry for them, or to be disappointed that they aren’t grieving more. Either way, it will only intensify the urge to contact someone.
You have your plan now. There’s nothing left to do but execute it; to execute yourself and your old life. It’s time to write the letter, take one last look around, and go.
YOUR NEW LIFE
Whoever wants to save their life will lose it. By faking your own death, you have gotten back your life. Your freedom came at a steep price, but now your life is really your own. Death has relieved every debt.
Well, almost every debt. There is one thing that still remains. By faking your own death you have made a declaration. You have stated unambiguously that your previous life was unacceptable. It must have been. Why else would you take such extreme measures to end it?
You didn’t do all of this just so you could rebuild the same life again. Your new life will have to be better than your old. It can’t submit to the same indignities or endure the same tedium.
So, what’s it going to be? The beaches of Costa Rica? The wilds of Patagonia? You can go anywhere and be anything. Remember that everyone thinks you’re dead. It’s no use worrying what people will think of your choices. You’ll never again have to make small talk at your high school reunion, casually delivering a defense of your life. You have become the author of your own existence and its sole critic.
In this way, faking your own death has been clarifying. It has cleared away the clutter of life. You are no longer distracted by a relentless stream of trivialities. You aren’t concerned about the endless rounds of layoffs and promotions at the office. You don’t care who wins the next election.
With everything else striped away, the real contours of life are revealed. The dilemma of existence comes into view. And what emerges? What are you left with? Your actual desires, reality, and the gulf that yawns between the two.
Life as an ex-suicide is not quite what you imagined. You expected to spend all of your time basking in the honeyed sunlight of evening. But your new reality feels suspiciously familiar. The afternoon sun sits hot on your neck and the bus stop reeks of garbage. It’s enough to tempt a resurrection.
Your old life may have been unsatisfactory, but at least it provided excuses. Your career was to blame, or maybe your spouse. Your children were spoiled. But now, free from all of that, you have no one to blame but yourself.
And the challenge of life is still the same. How do I live up to my own longings?