At this point, in my loaded state, I took stock of my life. I'd been locked up three times, tried halfway houses, detox, and rehab. I thought l'd actually tried a Twelve Step program, and I thought I had tried God, because I did a lot of foxhole prayers. I thought being in prison was going to be my life plan. In that car, I had an epiphany: I did not want to get high anymore! I'm not sure if you can relate to this, but with my whole being, I did not want to get high. But my arm would not stop bringing the pipe to my lips. If you have ever cried your eyes out while getting high, you know the powerlessness I am talking about. Hope was gone. I decided right then and there to kill myself. Obviously, I failed that mission. But I remember vividly that the thought of suicide gave me hope. I made it through the night, but something had changed. My main focus was to get back into rehab and give it an honest shot.