Thank you kindly for A2A, Jill! October 25, 2017. I woke up feeling extremely empty. I had no courage to drag my feet out of bed and I thought: this is it this is going to be the day that I am completely done! I got out of bed knowing I am going to commit suicide.I don't know where, but I do know how. I didn't want to do it at home. I printed out my suicide notes for everybody and hid it somewhere in my room. As I got ready, I took one last glanced to my dad. I gathered all my medications shoved it in to my bag and went out outside caught the bus that goes to college. I had no plans on going into my classes; I sat onto the college bus stop contemplating if I am going to do it. I did it. I chugged down the whole bottle of my anti-depressant. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, I felt like I was about to faint; I checked my phone to see what time was it and I saw my daughter's face on my home screen. I said to myself, "How can you be so stupid?! You have a daughter!" Trying my best to be conscious I caught the bus that goes to the hospital and checked in as a crisis patient in need to see a psychiatrist right away. I told my psychiatrist I tried to kill myself, and he escorted me down to the emergency room and I instantly became a 5150 patient. After 8 hours in the emergency room having full blown panic attacks I got transferred to a psychiatric ward 35 miles away from home. And for 4 days that psychiatric ward became my home. Question: The writer chugged the bottle: === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- when getting up
- after going to the college
- when getting on the bus
- not enough information

Answer: after going to the college

The drive up to Rick's place in the hills always made me sick. Just after he bought the house with his ill gotten gains from his band's over-hyped, over-marketed, and over-bought sophomore Disc, he drove me out to see it in his beautiful but nauseating '70 Datsun 240 Z. All the smog combined with the pinball effects of winding up the hill at teeth-numbing speeds had me puking for an hour after we got there. I took the last turn at the top of the hill and watched the rising sun crest over the black blocks of the city, her angel wings soiled and cheapened with the soot of 12 million get-away drivers. Rick's house came into view out of the fog, its large glass panes sparkling like the last clean surface of an oversized ashtray. I parked between a blue hatchback and Rick's favorite toy: a 350 horsepower Impreza he had smuggled here from Japan. All his more expensive rides were in the garage, collecting dust and gaining vintage resale value. I rang the bell. I waited and watched a couple of squirrels fight over a small treasure in the bushes. The door opened. "Dingo." "Hey, Luna." Her job as Rick's assistant was to take care of his place while he was out being a rock star. She made sure all his bills were paid, his animals were fed, and that the subsequent fallout from any parties she might have in his absence didn't leave any lasting damage. She was pretty by most standards, gorgeous by others. Short with a tight schoolgirl body and raven hair that teased her avian shoulders. But by whatever standard, her beauty was like a rare and exotic bird she kept caged behind the bars of her perfect teeth. As soon as she opened her mouth it flew away. Question: How long did the narrator wait for Luna to open the door? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- a couple of hours
- immediately; no wait
- not enough information
- A couple of minutes

Answer: A couple of minutes

Yes, and I am not proud of it, but grief makes you do some really stupid things. My wife walked out of our 9 year marriage and into relationship on the same day with a (so-called) friend of mine that I had known for 25 years. I was completely blindsided and in shock. I was devastated, I was lost, and I was grieving terribly. I had not only lost my wife, but I had also lost my best friend (her, not the asshole so-called friend), and her family. While I was not particularly close to her family (most did not like me according to my ex-wife) I did care about them and they were are part of my life. I absolutely loved her sister and always enjoyed hanging out with her, as well as one of her cousins. Luckily they are both still friends with me on FB so I get to keep in touch. Anyway, I am not proud of the fact that I created a fake FB account to check her page and even talked to her through IM's. I thought that if I could just talk to her, even if not as me, that I would be okay. However, seeing photos of her with someone else just about broke me. It was a very stupid thing to do and only made matters worse. One day I forgot to block my location and she figured out it was me. I felt so stupid, but I had loved her so much that I needed her in my life. She called me out on it. I was busted. I was the grieving idiot that did not want to give up. She just married that person 2 weeks ago, and honestly.I just want her to be happy. I miss her, I always will, and in hindsight, I don't know why she stayed with me as long as she did. I was not an easy person to love. Question: What is the man's relationship with his friend? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- Sibling
- not enough information
- Best friend
- Childhood friend

Answer:
not enough information