"What would it be like to just end it? Just end it now... No more responsibilty, worry, work, nothing. What can I do? ...the insulin. The insulin is in the refrigerator..."

I got up, and sat down at the kitchen table. I grabbed a syringe, then my sister's insulin. I thought:

"If I inject myself, I'll go peacefully. I'll fall into a coma, and I won't feel anything."

I sat for a few minutes, in the most intense concentration that I could muster at the time.

"What do I have to lose? I ruined many and any opportunities I may have had, and I'm despised by my family. Why should I not do this?"

I thought long, and I thought hard.

Eventually I put everything away, making sure I left no sign of my late-night activities.

I think back to what had happened, and I'm not sure if I had just dreamt it or not.

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