I hate her so much

I told my mom about my suicide plan. It felt so good to talk about it. I've been planning and thinking about it for so long but hadn't told anyone until now. It felt so good and real to talk about it, and to my surprise, it made me feel more determined to do it because contrary to my expectations, it felt "right." 
In the split second that I decided to tell her because I couldn't hold it in anymore, it clicked completely. I need to do this. 
She half heartedly told me not to do it, etc. I wish she would have saved that. It took away from the moment.In a perfect world, suicide would be a fully acceptable act. I wish I could share the news of my decision with friends and family and have them be happy and supportive. I wish we could have a goodbye party for me and have them share their memories of/with me.
And then the next day after the party, I wish I could finish it in some painless way. 
That's a huge issue for me. I need to do better research... I need a painless way to do it. And something that won't destroy my body. I want to look primed and pretty when I'm dead. 
I'd like to die in my bed, in a clean room. I'd like to die in my redecorated room because that would be prettier and nicer. I'd want to tuck myself in and wear pj's with high socks and I'm not sure what I would wear on top. 
I don't know if I would want to wear a t-shirt or a long sleeved shirt. I want my hair to be straight.
I've done a bit of research. If I take enough poisons and pills and alcohol, it should do the trick. If I take enough I might get lucky and not even throw up and make a mess. "you know when you're on a roller coaster and you're near the end, and you know how everything is going to play out? I felt that way." I feel that way, too! My choice is to stay on the roller coaster and go through the entire ride again and again and again and again and again or just get off and move on to something else.