BlackRing

I had an aunt and uncle who, when I was a kid maybe 12, were not well off. They got my brother and I each this toyset that was like make pretend welding. It had a hand tool that, if I remember, let you weld with this soft plastic to make things with the parts in the kit.

It also had a chamber near the nozzle that spun and contained something that made a bunch of sparks.

Well… The thing kept zapping and burning me. Kinda hurt. So, being 12, I complained about it.

And of course, I was an ingrate for not liking the toy they could afford instead of a Lego set or something. The worst of it was I got what my parents meant, my aunt and uncle were kind of ashamed. But it burned me.

Hell I thought it was really cool, and even said so, but I couldn’t keep playing with it due to, you know, my hand being red and kinda cut up.

Just bad times all around.

And no, no one suggested put a glove on, and it did not come with one.

Prozac and therapy.

Which honestly, is working. If only I arrived at this method sanely, rather than nearly ending it all and winding up in a hospital.

I put a gun to my head, ready to end it all.

Woke up in a hospital. No drugs involved.

I drove myself there. The gun was in the glove compartment. Apparently, I self admitted through ED.

I remember NOTHING from gun to my head to waking up in the hospital.

Not sure if that qualifies as near death, but I think I was.

I am better now. That was years ago, I came close again recently, but this time I have answers about myself and a place to start.