I remember when i was younger, me and my fiends read about Jonestown and all of those poor brainwashed souls who died from drinking poision-laced Flavor Aid. I wondered to myself what it would take to get to the point that you would give your life away so easily. In the summer of 2005, I found out. I had been working at a steel mill, making crap pay. The boss always yelling in my ear, the heat, the stench, everything made me tired, and angry. However, as a firm believer in God, I tried not to let my spirirt weaken. I did my best to stick it out, looking for a light at the end of this bleak tunnel. The hotter the summer got, the worse I felt. I was barely making enough to pay the bills, my newborn baby going without her needs, my wife crying day after endless day. It really got to me. And somewhere in the depression and despair, my mind stopped working properly. Everything finally hit me at once, and I made the worst decision of my life. To me, it made sense that if God loved me, and God wanted me, then I should be with him. So one day at lunch, I slipped <mod edit: bunny - methods> into a an 18 ounce cup of orange kool-aid. I figured I could just go to sleep, and never wake up. What I didn't realize is that 25 minutes later I would pass out on a forklift. I barely made it to the hospital in time, my lungs were becoming paralyzed and my breathing was getting low. Thankfully I was saved and have since seen the error of my ways. My life is a little better, and i'm happy just to be alive. Even though every now and then I get into a funk and get those old feelings back...Right now i'm just thankful...I'm blessed.