The first time I contemplated suicide I thought about jumping head first into the pavement. I was somewhere between 8-10 years old.
Since then over many tortuous years I concocted a number of, in my mind, elegant plans. Drug overdoses are too unpredictable and dramatic. Maiming my body was never appealing, too messy. Anesthetic gas seems like the most pleasant, but there's always the risk of failure and a life of brain damage.
Eventually I made a significant change in my thinking. Suicide isn't the easy way out. It's hard, and the consequences for failure are terrifying. For me the realization that these thoughts came from my emotional, irrational mind has had permanent effect on my willingness to plan a suicide attempt. I may visualize grotesque self-inflicted injuries and lately in my moments of weakness the thought that death would be easier has arisen, but I have grown to appreciate all the ways I could potentially f**k up my life that involve not dying instead of plotting my suicide.
Seriously -- you could start robbing banks. Life in jail wouldn't be so much worse than living as a stranger in a society that doesn't understand or appreciate you. The options are endless.
I would suggest jerking off and I don't mean auto-erotic asphyxiation.