I had already had such a bad life that I didn't want to know what other bad things could happen to me.
I bought it after someone at a suicide prevention hotline told me to go ahead and kill myself. It was the Samaritans hotline, which is hit or miss with its volunteers.
I wrote a bad check, took the gun and some bullets, and went into the woods.
I had never shot a gun, so part of what stopped me was not knowing if it would work or if I would be severely injured and still have to live.
I returned the gun.
That was before famous people had heard of me, before a life that is worse than anything that I could have thought of was forced on me, while the men and women who have forced it on me sit there and laugh about it and say they want to fuck me.
I couldn't say how many times since that day in the woods I have wished that I had blown my head off. I have spent many more hours than not wishing that I had.
