How are you? I'm sincerely asking, because I'm hoping you're okay, but I have to say, I'm a little worried. You must have been awfully disappointed when you found my site through your Google search -- this probably isn't exactly a book on how to not kill yourself -- this is probably more like a book on how to torture yourself mentally while not killing yourself or even anybody else, no matter how badly the urge might strike sometimes. So, my apologies. Also, my sympathies. I have been there, I have Googled "bitter misanthropist," I have Googled "I hate men," I have Googled "truckload of Canadian valium." And I have never yet come up with a book on how to not kill yourself.
I would like to write that book, though -- I think it's an excellent idea. It's probably the book most worth writing in the world. Part One could be called Why Not to Kill Yourself, and it would be full of exceptionally good, rational reasons to love the world and feel loved in return, reasons that make all kinds of holistic sense out of our fragmented reality. Reading it would be like being visited by the numinous, touched on the shoulder by the author as you're reading it, filling you with a profound sense of comfort and peace -- This person knows how I feel, and cares, and is explaining why it's okay.
Then Part Two could be, I don't know, strategies for not killing yourself. Like...stuff you could do instead. Like for instance find people to trust and talk to, or get away from the crazy people. Or forgive yourself. But said really eloquently and convincingly. This is the hard part, the long-term strategies -- I'd probably be better at the short-term ones, like, Get up and go to the movies immediately, or Cry it out, or Stare at an animal until you feel better. If those even work for anyone.
Then you could have a whole Part Three about people who didn't kill themselves and are really happy about it. I could write this part no problem. It's basically, "I used to want to kill myself, hoo boy, and now I don't." Which is true -- once I even stuck my head in the oven, but I didn't have the guts to blow out the pilot light, so I just sat there baking my head for ten minutes, dripping with self-loathing. Now I'm glad I didn't blow out the light.
Then I guess you could also include a list of implements to not kill yourself with:
Candlestick in the library
You know, the more I think about it, the more grateful I am to you, desperate Googler, for suggesting such a life-changing project, for giving me the plot of nothing less than the greatest book ever. I'll get cracking on it right away: HOW TO NOT KILL YOURSELF. It's dedicated to you.