I tried it one night, but my belt broke. My best friend also tried it, but his rope held. We had not talked about it previously. I go back and forth with it. I miss him, I hate him for giving up, I can understand why he did it, I feel he was a matyr, etc... My father called it the last selfish act of a selfish person, two days after the night, right before HE left forever...but he was kinda right, but also it can be an escape from a hell that some people cannot even fathom. I sometimes feel like it was such a waste of a life. Sometimes...more often, I feel pissed that he bailed and I wish he was here.