EXCLUSIVE: Willie Nelson's Darkest Day – Inside Country Hero's SUICIDE Bid… And Why He Was Left at the End of His Rope

Beloved country megastar Willie Nelson is known all over the world for hit songs like On the Road Again, Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain and Always on My Mind, but it was tough getting to the top, and the singer suffered through days so dark he even tried to commit suicide, RadarOnline.com can reveal.

In the early '60s, the then-unknown singer/songwriter faced a period of profound despair. Despite his undeniable talent, he struggled to find success in the competitive country music scene.

Nelson, now 91, said: "I'm not one to easily fall prey to depression. But depression had me in its grip."

He was living in a broken-down mobile home with his wife, Martha Matthews, and their three tiny toddlers, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make his mark in the country music scene.

Nelson recalled of their trailer park: "Used car lot on one side, cemetery on the other. I made it to Nashville, but from where I was sitting, the city wasn't exactly pretty... after months of hustling, I was still a pauper. My get-up-and-go attitude was challenged. That's saying something because my get-up-and-go attitude is deep inside my DNA. It's always been there, and I had always believed, at least 'til I got to Nashville, it always would be.

"But Nashville was different. I hadn't ever lived in a place where singers and songwriters formed a big, vibrant community. I wasn't unwelcome in that community. But my problem was seeing how many of its members were making a living while making music while I wasn't. Not a dime. Not only was no one interested in my songs, I had a hell of a time finding a barroom where I could sing. I had to go back to hawking encyclopedias. And because my heart wasn't in it, I failed at that.

"The one thing I could do was drink. But I was hardly what you'd call a good drinker. I'd either get sullen or, even worse, get crazy and pick a fight with someone twice my size. I'm not a bad fighter, but if you do fight, it's best to stay well within your weight class.

"Looking back over my life, my early days in Nashville were a definite low point. Throwing back Bourbon on a freezing cold night at Tootsie's, I thought about an old song I'd heard Lightnin' Hopkins cut back at Gold Studios in Houston. He sang about feeling so bad until he laid his head on some lonesome railroad line and let it ease his troubled mind. So, why not?

"It had started snowing. There wasn't any railroad in sight, but there was Broadway – the city's main thoroughfare. Why not go out there, lie down in the middle of the street, and let some souped-up Plymouth Barracuda ease my troubled mind?

"So I did. I lay, prepared to stay. Eyes closed. Ready to move on and move out. If this world wasn't working, maybe the next one would. I lay for five minutes, then 10, then 15. Don't know why – maybe it was the bad weather and the late hour – but there was hardly any traffic. If one or two drivers saw me, they swerved out of the way. Was I relieved? Was I disappointed? Can't say for sure. All I know is that I got up, went back to Tootsie's, and had another drink."

The next day, his friend Paul English – a country singer/songwriter he'd met at a small Texas radio station in 1955 – paid him a visit.

Nelson recalled: "It was four in the afternoon, and I was barely awake. It was the day after I'd tried to ease my troubled mind on Broadway. Paul's timing was uncanny."

Nelson and English – who'd go on to become his drummer, confidant and lifelong best friend – forged a bond akin to brotherhood that was immortalized in Nelson's 1971 hit Me and Paul, and lasted until English's death in 2020.

English spent the evening encouraging a despondent Nelson to go on with his country music career.

Nelson said: "I wasn't sure about rosy thinking. Maybe that's because I had no concrete plans for hustling my music other than hanging out with the music hustlers whose hustles were working. That meant showing back up at Tootsie's to scope out the scene I'd already scoped out more times than I cared to remember. It was the same old sh--. Except this time, it wasn't."

Something had changed. During the next few days, Nelson was hired to write songs.

The country music icon said: "The publisher was called Pamper. Interesting name 'cause I did feel pampered. Never before had I been given an empty office and told to do nothing but write. I greeted the walls with 'Hello Walls,’ a song Faron Young recorded. The thing ran up to number one, and the next I knew, Ray Price decided to give my Night Life new life and, even better, hire me as a bass player in his band, the Cherokee Cowboys.

"Paul had predicted my immediate future, and when I saw him next, down in Texarkana, he had another prediction. The Cowboys had shared the bill with Patsy Cline, who'd recorded Crazy, one of those forgotten songs I'd written down in Houston that turned into her biggest hit. All to my surprise."

English said after the show: "You're hotter than a pistol. I just don't see why you don't have your own band."

Nelson formed his award-winning band – and the rest is history.

Today, the star stands as a symbol of resilience, perseverance and fortitude during challenging times.

Nelson added: "When I started counting my blessings, my whole life turned around."