Fifteen More Minutes

This is a true "how-not-to" story and it is not erotic at all. Read at your own warning.

I never had trouble with drugs or booze or any of the evils that most consider the road to ruin. I had a rough divorce where I work too hard to please my X and make the divorce pleasant. That failed. I had found a job I liked (my own business) and she wanted more income and a man with a larger check and faster car. I thought the split was to be for each of us to grow. She decided to be hateful and vicious.

I endured, lost most of my friends who chose to go to her lavish parties. No big deal I thought. I found a new woman in short order. Reflecting back, it was too short of order. We were soon married. My second and her third. I married her for two main reasons. She had 48 DD's and loved to show them off.

It didn't occur to me how much she loved to show them off and how much she was will to do with them. She never took our vows serious. I refused not be a cuckold man. When checks started bouncing and I discovered her large drug stash, a quick divorce was the next step.

Then, I lost my full-time job due to down sizing and my part-time job was interfering with being a single father. I risked everything, loaded the car with all it could hold, including my 9 year old son and we moved out of state for a new start.

Jobs were plentiful -- at $5 an hour and no benefits! This was Arkansas and Clinton had just left. No one worked for any real money. After a few months of struggling and barely making it, I could no longer continue. I had gotten some help from a local clinic to fight my depression, but it was not working. I made arrangements so my son could stay with a couple who would get him back and forth to school. I placed a hose from the exhaust pipe of the car to the window and took a whole bottle of sleeping pills. I was sitting in a public park.

A jogger noticed me and called the police. (For the record, it now appears that unleaded gas doesn't work as deadly as the other used to -- thankfully.)

I did a week in a hospital. They were so kind. I was given my meds, got to watch all the television I wanted and all the sleep I wanted. Plus three meals a day. I did see one doctor for three minutes who told me I was well enough to go home if I could find a ride. Medical science is really great!

The first night I was home, I decide to do it right. This time I would do it in my home. Slit my wrist. BUT -- the television was advertising a new show -- The John Larroquette Show. This was right after Night Court went off the air. He was the manager of a bus depot. He was a recovering alcoholic. He kept saying, "If I can make it through tonight without a drink..."

Well I decided I would wait to kill myself until after I watched that show. It worked and I got several things done. I had everything ready to kill myself at the end of that show. BUT -- 30 minutes later they were going to have another episode of the show. SO - - "I can want to kill myself until after that show is over," I thought.

It worked. That night I told myself I could sleep for a while and if I woke up still feeling as bad as I did then, I would kill myself. Eventually, I worked up to a week at a time. Then a month at a time. I do slip. There have been times when I will say, "I will wait 15 minutes and if I still feel this bad, then I will do it."

I should point out that I have no insurance that covers psych visits and counseling, but if you do -- CALL. I do have a good group of friends who I sometimes call when things get bad. But the one thing about being suicidal is that is if you are really sincere about it, talking to anyone else really doesn't seem to help (at least in my case.) So, if you find yourself thinking about killing yourself, make an agreement to wait -- a day -- a half hour -- a week -- whatever length of time you can. Perhaps, it is as I think, I don't want to die depressed, so I will wait until I am in a good mood. Just wait half a day then reconsider.

This is how-not-to kill yourself and it has worked for me for the last 13 years.