I can’t think of a situation where I would. In a life-threatening emergency, where it seems unlikely that I could make it out alive and that my last few moments would be torturous, I’d like to think that I’d still struggle to the very end to survive.
If I lost my child or my fiance, I’m pretty sure that they would want me to continue to live my life. I’d hope that I would work to make the world at least a slightly better place in their memory.
In the case of a terminal illness, I’d like to think that I might somehow live long enough to inspire someone else with my struggle. Who am I to decide that it’s my time to go? Perhaps my life is only to serve as a warning to others.
I suppose if I committed some horrible crime that landed me in prison forever, I might see things differently. If there was no hope of parole…who knows? That is one of my greatest fears. But even then, I hope I could find some meaning to my life.