As I've long suspected, shotgun to head is the preferable way to go. But Daniel's comment about the agony level of drowning made me flash back to a near-death experience I had in 1969 that usually stays buried in the back of my mind. Don't read further if you aren't in the mood for long-held and long-buried angst.
In 1969, I was either 12 or just turned 13. My 18yo cousin & her friend were visiting & we went to Redondo Beach. They hung out on shore while I braved the 12-foot waves to swim out past the breakers. It was a good time until I tried to get back to shore. Tried to body-surf the waves, but kept getting caught in the undertow & was in a washing machine turbulence. Thought I was gonna drown, but kept making it to the surface just enough to catch a breath before going under again. Had a near-death experience, as in accepting that I was going to die. Finally got to shore and couldn't believe I'd lived through it. Told the teenagers & they blew it off. So I never told anybody else.
Thirty years or so later, The Perfect Storm came out. When I flipped through it, I landed on the page about the effects of drowning and had an anxiety attack. Have still managed to keep it in the back of my mind... until I see something like this that makes me think of it again.
So I'm putting this out in public as a catharsis, that yes, I really did almost die, and nobody knows it but me. Whew, another cobweb cleared out of my psyche.
via +Daniel J. De Jesús