Why the easy way out?

I read in yesterday’s newspapers of the suicide of a television actress, whom I remember having seen but once or twice on screen, but whose personality did echo a semblance of a tragedy of Aeschylus, a sad yet powerful character. And that such a life should be snuffed out, that too in the prime of youth is heartbreaking, if not saddening.
But I never quite got the concept behind the method of death this particular actress and many like her chose to adopt, that being suicide. I imagine that the desire to kill oneself must arise from a complete inability to deal with life’s challenges, if not a real weakness, but a perceived one. Maybe in this extreme moment of weakness, one feels so desolate that death and death alone seems the most dear and most beloved of companions. And yet, taking one’s life requires courage, courage not of an ordinary nature, but that rivaling the type possessed by the Heroes of Valhalla. And I do not jest.
Consider this. Can you, in your senses, ever bring yourself to cut yourself intentionally? Could you ever conceive the thought from the terrace of a high-rise building that the ground seems so very welcoming and jumped forthright into Mother Gaea’s arms? No, you cannot. And no, it’s not because you are in control of your senses. Hell no! It’s because you don’t have the courage it takes to do all this.
So, when someone comments that the person had given up on his/her life and committed suicide, I wonder why. After all, the courage that they possessed, the strength that they had, which they summoned to cause their death, could surely have been called for to assist them in fighting their horrors. Why is it that they found themselves so alone, so bereft of any emotion that the only way out to them was death? Why did they, in the most tragic of moments, abandon the desire to live and embrace death?
Maybe you, my readers, have answers to my questions. Maybe you have sensed the nuances of human nature better than me. I know not. I pray, answer me.