On Thursday night I took an overdose. Everything just got too much, I had an argument with my ex-boyfriend over money and the worry of everything just overwhelmed me. I got so tired of fighting everyone so I just took every pill in my medicine bag. It was an impulsive act in itself but I had been actively researching suicide for a few days prior and felt so utterly low at the point I did it. As soon as I started taking the pills I looked at my supplies and to my dismay thought I didn't have nearly enough to finish me. I took them anyway and after a little time passed I left my home and went for a walk, so that no ambulance would appear at my house and alert my housemates. I decided that in order to avoid anyone finding out and having to face their wrath when I wake up, I should 'turn myself in' as it were, so I called NHS Direct and they sent an ambulance.
I spent 2 days in hospital. At first I didn't even realise how serious it was, I thought I might be a bit ill but I completely underestimated it I think. They made me drink charcoal at first, I threw up and thought that would be that. But then they kept attaching me to one drip of drugs after another, the first of which made me feel the illest I've ever been. They told me that I would have died had I been admitted, no question. Because nobody ever tells you how much to take to kill yourself I guess I presumed I hadn't taken enough. Apparently I had though, especially combined with the amount of alcohol I had in my system. It's sort of sad that it turns out that if I hadn't have gotten help myself I would have never had to face the anger of the people in my life at all, I would have died before they got a chance to be mad.
Hospital was initially a very scary experience but by the end of my stay it was pleasant, presumably in line with my physical recovery. Some nurses judged and some didn't but none of it mattered really. I met a male nurse on my ward who knew me from when we were children, that was awkward, especially when his first question to me upon recognition was a very sincere "hows life?". It was disarming but also strangely comforting to see a familiar face there.
It's so hard to pinpoint how I feel right now, my emotions are all over the place. In the hospital I was so glad to still be alive, and I am now I suppose. Some of the stuff I've been feeling feels very cliched, like when I was discharged and stepped out into the world I felt in love with it, like I'd never seen it before. I came home and my housemates are none the wiser as to where I've been. My workplace knows I've been in hospital, as I should have been at work the last two days I really had no choice but to tell them my whereabouts, but they don't know why and I have no intention of telling them the real reason.
I wanted to talk more about this experience but I'm very tired and sort of talked out so that will be all for now.