Here's the latter part of the "suicide" article. You can read the whole thing in the draft I submitted to Illumination. I revised the original so it has a positive mental health slant, and it's still honest. Please let me know if it'll pass muster. Thanks.

Janice

That 15 minutes gave me just the right interval of time to reflect on a few hundred things in my life. I wanted to see if I could receive a message from my newly departed dog. The only way I could do that was if I were alive. I turned the Rogue to that real home that beckoned, returned to my laptop, and started Googling. That's when I found out about the possible new-car-not-enough-carbon-monoxide connection. Not a good idea, I mouthed silently.

Obviously, you knew at the start that I didn't complete my suicide plan. But I wasn't kidding when I said it was the closest I ever came to doing it. And I'm also not going to kid you into thinking this story has a happy-ever ending.

I still don't like my life, my marriage, and many of the challenges fate has visited on me. But I got lucky. A delicious slice of pie brought me back to rationality. If I wanted more pie or caramel apples or Haagen Dazs ice cream, or anything sweet for that matter, I'd have to find a better way.

So I took my sick mental state to the Silent Shrink (that's why I call my psychiatrist due to his minimal use of language) and he came through for me in buckets. He prescribed a great new pill that turned my mindset around 180 degrees. Thumbs up for life!

I'm not perfect, but at least I'm still in the game, puffing up that steep hill toward my next piece of chocolate mousse cake.