A year and a half ago, I tried writing a memoir. I wrote it in a month (it was terrible, perhaps I was slightly manic and out of my mind when I wrote it?) The first sentence was: Eleven AM on an Easter Day, April 5, 2015. That was about 45 minutes prior to my one and only attempt (which I will never repeat). I went on to talk about what triggered it and described in detail what it was like to be rushed to the local trauma hospital via helicopter and the experience there and more. Before that happened, I didn't try to reflect on what was going on inside of me. Ever since that day, I doubt myself and others all of the time. You know--what the h*!!, has happened to me that I could have done something that extreme! Before that happened, I would just bury the nagging voices inside of me telling me, something is not right. I understand those voices better but, honestedly, life is full of tradeoffs and choices and I don't know how to undo some of the bad choices I have made in my life in a way that makes a difference.