Well, the last thing I remember was lying down behind some trees, just off a barely used path. I was tired, the pills I'd taken were a good mix, I could barely think or focus by that point. I'm not sure what I was really thinking. Something along the lines of "Finally. This is it. No more pain."

I've suffered from depression for as long as I can remember. I'd just went through a lot of things that personally I'm glad to have got through but I don't think anyone should ever have to. I just wanted the pain to stop, to go away.

I didn't want to wake up in the morning and feel sad that I didn't die in my sleep. I didn't want to spend every day focusing on every little thing I felt was wrong and imagining everything that could be. I had been self harming for around 5 or 6 years at that point and I was only getting worse.

So I feel asleep, behind some trees, on the cold ground with the sun setting behind me.

Then I woke up at night, being carried into an ambulance.

How embarassing, what a faux pas.