I’d thought about suicide before. In fact, I thought about it a lot in the couple of years leading up to when I decided to end my life. I even researched on the internet all the ways I could do it. The year before I succeeded, I tried by taking an overdose of a medication called Provigil, but I wasn’t successful. I think I must have died for a little bit then, though, because I saw my deceased aunt, Deni, who’d taken her own life, and my friend Arnold
, who’d died from an accidental gunshot wound just after our high school graduation. They were sitting on either side of me, holding my hands. Their presence gave me comfort. It also gave me the sense that I was in a different place, better than the one I was in at the time, and I remember it feeling so good. I knew I wanted to go back there. The day after my first suicide attempt, Pappa and I were standing by his truck. He asked me why I wanted to die. After all, the sky was blue and beautiful that day and everything seemed calm. Nice. Happy.