So I had the caffeine powder. My parents were going out-of-town to attend my nephew’s college graduation, than to deal with a medical problem with my grandfather (my brother-in-law also got sick during this time).

I provided a list of what food I would like the house stocked with, knowing I would only get through half of it at most before my end. I know it’s strange to think of these small things, but I needed to keep up appearances.

The morning of their departure I was very nervous. I didn’t want to give off any clue of what I was planning. I knew that if they suspected anything amiss, it would cause them to delay or cancel their trip. I tried to play everything down, but I was deathly (HA!) afraid I would betray my intent. Finally the van was packed, I gave them each a hug, and watched them drive away. A heavy weight came upon me when I thought I was seeing them for the last time.

Once they were safely away, I started putting my plan into action. I got my caffeine powder out and put it into another plastic container. I had heard it was really bitter stuff, but I needed to find out exactly how bitter we were talking about. I licked the tip of my pinky and put it into the powder, then touched it to my tongue.

YOWZERS! For those of you not in the know, caffeine is THE standard by which bitterness is measured. Incredibly vile and bitter stuff. I realized my original idea of just mixing it into a glass of tap water would be impossible. I would have to find a way to make it more palatable. I headed out to the grocery store.

My mission was to find a liquid sweet enough to mask the pure bitterness of the caffeine powder. I eventually settled on either Naked juice “Green Machine” or POM Pomegranate-Cherry juice. I bought both and considered. The caffeine powder would probably not mix totally, so I figured if it was placed in the Pomegranate juice it would just settle at the bottom. Naked juice was thicker, so it wouldn’t settle out. It was decided to be the vehicle for my overdose.

I didn’t mix up the concoction right away. I went to my computer and started writing my note. The “limitless options” password post? Yeah, guess what that is? (I considered deleting it, but it gives me a good glimpse back to how hopeless I felt at the time. It helps keep me on the path.)

It took two days to write the note. I went through so many revisions it’s crazy. I was hoping to get just the right feeling in it. Comforting those I left behind, while at the same time accusing those I felt were forcing me to take this choice of action. I’m nothing if not melodramatic. ;)

Finally it was done. I saved it to the blog and post-dated it to go live the following Monday. Then went to the kitchen to mix up my death drink. The recommended maximum daily dose for a man of my size and weight was 1/20th of a teaspoon. I measured out 4 tablespoons and shook the bottle to mix. I then stuck it back in the fridge and went about my normal routine of playing World of Warcraft.

Can you see the dichotomy here? I was going out of my way to not give off ANY indication of what I was planning.

I set my clock early for the following day, I needed a little extra time than normal. I showered, shaved, and dressed. The only exception was that I wrote “DNR” (which stands for “Do Not Resuscitate”) on each breast and on my belly. I didn’t want any heroic means taken to bring me back from where I was going.

I grabbed the bottle and headed to church.

Yes, church. My plan was to drink the stuff on the way to church, sit in the back of the congregation, pass out, and die. This way someone would assume I had fallen asleep, come up me to tell me it’s time for the next meeting, find themselves unable to wake me, at which point the alarm would be raised. Coupled with my “DNR”, even if they got me to a hospital in time, the doctors would be afraid to take any action to bring me back, for fear of legal liability.

So I got halfway to church when I took my first sip. BLEH! It was still putrid! No more of that stuff while I was driving!

Once I got to church I went into a restroom, held my nose, and chugged several gulps. Not the entire bottle, but a good three-quarters of it. I realized at this moment the die was cast. I rinsed out the bottle (to avoid them knowing what I took) and took my seat at the back of the chapel.

It hit me like a Mac truck very quickly. Within 5-10 minutes I developed tunnel-vision. No nausea, but I was definitely feeling funny. I quickly realized this wasn’t what the internet had promised me. I ran to the bathroom to stick my fingers down my throat.

Nothing would come up. Maybe a little spittle, but my body was holding tight to the poison. I started to rationalize that since I didn’t take ALL of what I intended, maybe I could just ride it through. I grabbed my keys and headed out. One member asked “We losing you Steve?”. If they only knew. All I could reply was “Yeah, I’m not feeling well.”

Understatement of the year.

Driving home was probably the worst thing I could have done. By this time my head was swimming and I was getting very sleepy. The killer thing is that I passed by a hospital on my way home. If I had only turned in, I would have saved myself a fate worse than death. But I was trying to be brave, and I REALLY didn’t want my stomach pumped.

By a miracle I made it home safely, and even parked the car in the garage straight. I had enough strength to log into my blog and set the suicide note to not go live.

After that, I collapsed on to my bed. I was hoping that once I was home I could just “sleep it off”.

Ugh, if I only knew what fate had in store for me. =/

Next Post: The Very Long Night of Stephen.