This was written November 28th, 2025
The Experiment
1 – A letter
If this doesn’t work out, or maybe works out as intended, then you might be find this letter, and I must apologize to you. No, I did not hate life, nor have suicidal ideation. To me, it’s simply a scientific experiment, try to push the limits of my curiosity. Ever since I’ve learned about the concept, I’ve been obsessed. What if? And how to know? I don’t care about applications or anything of the sort, but I seek the truth…or at least get as probabilistically close to it as I can. And since it’s a purely subjective matter, based on your unique perception, there was no way to leave it in someone else’s hands, no matter the risks. I simply have to try it for myself, it’s the only way. And if it works, I might be able to share it with someone else, but obviously they themselves won’t be able to have such great certitude, unless they try it for themselves.
Phrasing it like this, it almost sounds like a virus that could propagate from person to person, haha. But no, I should keep a more appropriate and somber tone for this. Here I am, maybe the first person to ever attempt to get to the bottom of this, maybe not. Probabilistically speaking, it’s rather unlikely that I would be in the same universe as someone else who pushed it far enough to have high-confidence in the theory. Ah well, wish me luck!
If you find my corpse, I do sincerely apologize, but it is too hard for me to ignore this thirst for an answer, and I must quench it at any cost. In the end, know that I was happy and am satisfied with the life I’ve led. And I’m eternally grateful to all of you for all of your support and help, for your presence from the most minute to the most significant parts of my existence. I wish you all the best, and thank you sincerely. Sorry I didn’t discuss this with any of you before starting the experiment, but I couldn’t accept being dissuaded or impeded. It is ultimately the greatest regret that I can’t just come back after the facts to share the results with you, although from my own perspective, it’ll seem like I can. But ultimately, I’m familiar enough with the concept to know that I’m also leaving some of you behind.
Enough dilly-dallying, time to move on with it.
Sincerely, T.
2 – The first experiment
Well, here I was, finally trying to go through with my rather gruesome experiment. If I was mistaken, it would be regrettable, I would just die, and that would be it. What’s worse, I wouldn’t even satiate my curiosity, since I would be welcomed by a complete void. But it was pointless worrying about this, I knew I wouldn’t allow myself to get cold feet, nor leave any room for regrets. I just had to know, once and for all.
So, step one, get the gun out. I could definitely feel the trepidation. My heart starting to beat harder, my awareness shifting. Yes, I had been planning this for a long time, but it didn’t mean anxiety and anticipation could be completely avoided. A deep breath, time to swallow my saliva and load the gun. Ok, ready. And of course, I did not want to inconvenience others too much, so the basement was all covered in tarpaulin, limiting the ultimate mess. Deep inhalation. Gun to the temple. Hold the breath in. Remove the safety. Deep exhalation. Place my index on the trigger. I was starting to shake, but I was rea…
Ding-Dong. Someone at the door. I almost had a heart attack! The panic intensified, I couldn’t let anyone find me like that! I quickly ran to the cabinet to hide the gun, along with the letter.
What about the tarp? Fuck! I couldn’t let anyone find me in this state, they’d be sure to take me away! Welp, I quickly tried to roll it back and hide it in a nearby box, before running back upstairs to answer the door.
And what for? A simple prank from nearby kids. Ah well, with the rush of the situation, and adrenaline still pumping through my system, I wasn’t ready to move on with my experiment, so I decided to shelve it for the rest of the day.
3- More attempts
Well, here I was again, ready to re-attempt the experiment. The basement was once again ready, the weapon locked and loaded. I released the safety, and just as I was getting ready to bring the weapon to my temple, there went my phone! I got so startled that I actually pulled the trigger, BANG! Straight down into the tarp and the floor…this would be a hard one to explain. I looked at the phone and saw my mom was calling. I opted to shelf the experiment one more time, and answer the call, it would have to wait for another time…yet again.
Should I continue with the experiment? Of course I had to, I wanted to know whether there was a kernel of truth behind Quantum Immortality. But at this point, with two failures so close to the goal, and one with an actual discharge, I wasn’t sure I had the guts to use the gun anymore. Time for another tactic, but what?
Maybe drowning? But that sounded rather painful, so I quickly discarded it. Exsanguination? Similar concerns, too painful and too slow. Jumping off a building or a bridge? Well… it would be final, and there’d be no going back, but it actually wasn’t that accessible of a means anymore. I figured it might have to be pills or hanging myself. The former would probably be less traumatic for anyone finding me though.
Accordingly, I did a quick search online for the lethal dose for the sleeping pills I had access to as an insomniac. With the next refill, I’d have enough, so I went to the pharmacy and made up a story about having dropped all of my pills and needing my refill. Luckily, the pharmacist didn’t care much, and just acquiesced.
Now, time to get everything ready. I opted to do this overnight, so I first gave myself a great evening first, in case my hypothesis was wrong. An amazing dinner, followed by a viewing of one of my favorite movies. Ok, I was ready, so I set the scene. Prepared my letter, emptied the bottle in my mouth, sat back, and tried to relax. As much as I could with this nauseating taste permeating through my mouth…these were not pleasant whatsoever! Creeeeeek….
Wait…what? Someone was entering? Oh no, would my experiment be….
I’m pretty sure that’s when I blacked out.
4- Awakening
The next day was a rather weird jumble of things. My brain was a complete mess, and nothing would really stick much, just a huge haze. I remember the general events here and there, but no details. Of course, my friend who had my spare keys decided to come over. Turns out he’d been told about the gunshot by someone in the neighborhood, and had come to investigate. Not having heard from me in a few days, he’d been worried and opted to come in right away. Well, he found me on the sofa, labored breathing, in the midst of losing consciousness. He tried to wake me up, but no results, so the ambulances were summoned. Obviously, once I was in the ER and my situation was stable, he went back to my place to see if anything needed to be put in order. That’s when he found the letter, the pistol, the tarp and the hole in the floor.
Of course, I woke up in the mental ward. I couldn’t believed me, but they’d accused me of having lost it. Such erratic and uncharacteristic behavior, and hysteria in the letter, both concerning in its subject matter and tone, with somber and humourless joke. They were concerned and panicked, and so did what they deemed right, to lock me away, protect me from myself. And I was so frustrated, so upset, but what could I possibly do. I’d seemingly failed my experiment, and wouldn’t have any new shot at it for a while.
5 – Epilogue
This is the content of the interview I received from one of the most interesting patients I’ve met. I’ve rarely seen any ward patient allegedly coming from such a hysteric and mad pattern, that simultaneously felt so detached and rational. He was clearly in charge of his reason, yet his tendencies prevented him from being released. Allegedly, following this rationality and his good behavior, he’d been given more leeway, but each time, he yet again was found having either planned or attempted his own demise. Yet, with miracle luck, something always happen to bail him out. Now, no matter his behavior, he’s a permanent fixture of the ward, with no plan of any release.
After having interviewed him, I opted to research Quantum Suicide and Quantum Immortality myself, and can’t help but think he misinterpreted his results. What if his experiment was actually a success? After all, if it’s really a probability game, wouldn’t that be the most likely scenario in which someone like him would continue live? Agency being taken out of his own hands sounds like a good candidate.