One shot

One shot, that is all I needed when I bought this gun. This time it was real. I didn’t think about taking it too far. This was for me, to end my pain and misery. It was 1996, the year that I hit rock bottom and there was no drugs or alcohol involved. It was severe depression. It was that year as it’s said “the love of my life” and I broke up. But the worst was yet to come. My Grandfather was dying. A man who showed me things in life that never would have been possible for me to learn since my father was a coward and left my mother when I was only about a year old.

I thought everything was lost. I felt so guilty as well. I could not admit that my Grandfather was dying so I did not accept it. But it became reality when he was admitted into the ICU; then the funeral.

I isolated myself from friends. I decided I could not take this anymore. I became in rage and all I could think about was killing myself just to end it all. I had to; I had nothing to live for. This was it, and I did. One night I opened two boxes of sleeping pills, held them in my hand and said “God forgive me for what I am about to do”. Gulp, down they went. I felt good for the moment. I don’t remember everything but I woke very dizzy. My mother, grandmother and uncles all came to me. Luckily I dismissed it as being sick and they accepted that. That wasn’t enough for me. I had a goal to achieve.

So I stood there on the freeway bridge, I stood there for a while. Confused nervous not knowing what to do. I looked over the side several times. Cars passing by and no one stopped. My entire body was trembling. It wasn’t until a truck pulled up operated by a state employee, which is when I got spooked and drove off.

Finally I had to make a choice, so I did. I walked in and asked for a shotgun and said I just want to have one shot. Sold! I brought it home, laid it on my bed with the four pack of shells. I looked and examined it. I prepared for my death. I practiced on how it was going to be executed. This was it, no more pain or depression. I put the shell in the barrel, then took it out again, practiced some more by putting the barrel of the gun in my mouth, pulled the lever back then pressed the trigger. All is in check, now the shell was in place. I am ready, my last note had been written, and my end was near. After several tries I could just not pull the trigger.

So today, I am turning the shotgun into the local police department along with the four shells and this note. I wanted to write it to let anyone know that I was there to, the suicide path. But today, is different. I have been married for seven years and have a son who is 6 years old and a daughter who is almost 4 years old. I would never have known how wonderful life could be, I would never have known what true love is really like, I would never have known how it feels to pass on the teachings that my Grandfather taught me to my son and daughter. I would never have known how stupid and immature I was in handling my depression. But now I see how it was for me and how things will never be that way again like it was in 1996. The days to come are a blessing and life will be full of changes and I am looking forward to living each one.

Signed,

A husband to a great wife, the father of two kids, and a man who is happy to be alive.