The way I see it, there's nothing wrong with suicide when it comes to chronic, incurable, untreatable suffering. I got Hepatitis A (the kind that goes away, I always feel compelled to say that, a lot of people hear Hep and they freak out) when I was in middle school. Apparently an especially strong case
To give you an example, I lost 30 pounds in the first 8 days, went just under 4 weeks without being able to keep down so much as a single saltine, and had to be put on IV several times to keep me hydrated and somewhat nourished because I couldn't even hold down water, let alone food.
For five and a half weeks my life consisted of laying on my bathroom floor because the chronic fatigue made it so that my body couldn't take the 10 foot walk from the couch to the bathroom to vomit every 5 to 10 minutes.
If I had something that made me feel like that, every day, forever? Seriously, just fucking kill me. Not even a joke.
I don't tend to feel the same way about the "Wahhhh, I'm sad" or "Wahhh, pay attention to me" kinds. Selfish *and* stupid.
(Sidenote: even when you get better, you'd be surprised how difficult it is on your body to start eating again after a month without food)