To go back to the beginning, February 15 1994 (sic) around midnight. I am in my office in downtown Hong Kong, with the cold barrel of a pistol in my mouth, one bullet in the chamber, and all intention of ending this incarnation as I was thinking at the time.
I had convinced myself that I had tried everything and that the last person I reached out to told me to just go. That I would just restart and try and get it right next time. Just as I was about to do it, I thought of the child now 18 months old and the other one in her mother's belly.
I thought and I really tried everything possible. I'd sat meditation; I had followed spiritual practice; I had done everything I thought possible; I had tried to change myself; I'd done therapy; I'd gone to the woods for six months.
Yet, every time I would walk into that same wall. Every day I would wake up thinking that today would be different, follow the exact same path and hit the exact same wall.
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