Auto Asphyxia

I have had two friends in my life who had taken their lives by strangulation. One strung himself up in a jail cell presumably due to an inability to get high. The second tied a necktie around his neck while he was completely naked. He was kneeling on the floor and the tie was affixed to the doorknob of his bedroom door. He was masturbating and had gone too far without being able to return.
The man in the jail cell was a junior high school friend of mine; straight but totally into psychedelics. I'm not sure what he had ever done for income.
The second one was gay and in a sort of relationship; he lived with someone who was identified as a sort of boyfriend even though they lived in separate bedrooms. What made the second one more creepy is that the so-called boyfriend had heard incoming calls go to voicemail on the answering machine. He also knew that the roommate's car hadn't been moved in a few days. The cat was in the other bedroom with the door closed and hadn't come out to eat. Can you imagine someone being so oblivious? or lacking any curiosity?
The second one was someone I had so much wanted to love. He was a great kisser and was always able to rise to the occasion. Unfortunately, he had a horrible drinking problem. I should have recognized it during our first date. When he took me to his apartment in San Francisco, I noticed that he had a tiny refrigerator in his bedroom. He kept cola in it. Under his bed, he kept a bottle of rum.
He also smoked.
I'd call him many times and the phone would go to voicemail (before the days of caller ID). I even called him the day before he had auto-erotically asphyxiated himself. Why didn't he pick up? I wonder if I could have saved him.
Of course, I know the answer was no. I couldn't offer him what he wanted. He was used to humiliation and being told how worthless he was. I told him that to me he looked like an Adonis, but probably a bit larger than
depicted in the marble statue. He never liked hearing it. His face had acne and his hair was never perfectly coiffed and years of drinking rum and Coca-Cola had made visible changes to the shape and color of his teeth.
I have a job where I have to ask people if they are feeling suicidal or homicidal when I'm speaking to them. Only one time had a person said yes.
Me? When I was younger I used to have fantasies of homicide. Well, it wasn't *I* performing the homicide. It's during those moments of exasperation when I'd look at someone and just say, "Why don't you drop dead?" or "Oh, I wish you were dead."
I'm very careful not to say such things (or even think them) anymore. The last person I had wished that on, actually did die. She developed cancer. Not a way I would want any one to die. The notification of her death didn't comfort me any. She had lived out her life being mean and stupid to people. She never apologized to another person for any of her behavior because she would never admit to having made a mistake.
I hope I never have to learn of someone ending his life this way. I dread knowing that there are friends of mine who actually toy with the safety of their life for a higher level of sexual stimulation