I came home, got a letter from my cousin. The letter said that he opened his second million dollar restaurant.
I looked around at my small studio apartment, dirty due to my hoarding/cluttering disease, figuring that I am just as
smart as my cousin. So I figured out a way to commit suicide by laying on my back in the bathtub, let the water cover
my eyes, nose, and mouth, and keep the water running. As I was slowly going into slumber... My neighbor downstairs
pounded on my door. I immediately got out of the tub and asked myself "Why the fuck am I trying to kill myself?"
Got up, dried off, got dressed, checked my keys and my wallet and walked up to City General at 3:00 in the morning.
When I got at San Francisco General Hospital, stood in line, said to the triage nurse "I tried to kill myself!"
She dragged me over to psychiatrics and rang the doorbell, she said "Wait here and somebody will help you."
Then a doctor came out and says "Can I help you?"
I said "I tried to kill myself doctor." He said "If I help you, I have to 51-50 you and observe you for 48 hours."
I replied, "I don't care, I need Help." He handed me a form to fill out and says "Sign at the bottom that you voluntarily
will be put under obverv for 48 hours." The the nurse told me to take off my shoes, belt, and ID-Wallet and all my
stuff in my pockets. I did as I was told. And I was taken to a room with people screaming, talking about invisible armies
that were coming to attack him, placed on the bed that was designed by the Marquie De Sade.
The next day they gave me oatmeal, bacon and eggs, and two hours later the doctor talked to me and says "We'll look at
you for one more hour and you can leave the next day, and we will contact any person you tell me to call in the morning
after a good nights sleep. Woke up the next morning after breakfast, The doctor said "Who would you like to call?"
I picked Lisa Gray-Garcia, a good friend and comrade of Poor Magazine.They dialed her and a nurse explained what had
happened to me. In an excited voice she said "Why are you doing something stupid! You got friends and children, kids who
look up to you!" Then I got released, went to the event that Poor Magazine puts on "San Francisco Streets" and the next day
I went to a psychiatrist who diagnosed that I had an organic condition. To any reader that feels like ending their life - Do Not.
You will find out that life is precious and not trivial, and you a lot of people worse off that you are.
Call immediately if you have an emergency that you want to kill yourself.