I've attempted once and come damn close several times. Just two nights ago I burrowed deeply into my wrist with a razor blade, but changed my mind because I didn't want to leave my lonely grandmother with an empty house and a bloody mess, and I didn't want to wake up in the emergency room again with more medical bills on my hands, or her's. The last time I attempted I was in the Marine Corps. I was training at Camp Lejeune and decided I'd had enough of their bullshit, my own inhibitions, my stepfather abusing my brothers, and my brother hopping from one foster family to another. I popped 50 grams of motrin and woke up in the IC ward, my career thrown in the garbage and my future in the gutter. I was kicked out. I've been a bulimic, borderline personality, ephedra junkie for 5 years now. I don't have any issues with my bulimia or meth addictions, because I can go days without them if I choose. But I can't get a job in this miserable little part of NC, can't find a meaningful way to occupy my time, and can't find anything enjoyable or worth pursuing in life whatsoever. It's been that way for some time. I'm truly willing to bury it all. Hell, the happiest moment of my life was the last few hours before I collapsed at Camp Lejeune. I felt like a toddler packing up for a trip to Disneyland. The problem is, I've rekindled my bonds with this old woman and I just can't bring myself to hurt her. When she drops dead, which may be soon, I'm putting one of her slugs into my brain. So I guess my question is: How do you make suicide look like an accident?