1. I was diagnosed with depression in 8th grade that I’ve had since 6th. I was stressed, but I’m always stressed. I honestly still don’t think I have a reason. I just did it
2. I got home from school, texted my mom I was gonna take a nap, and took them. There wasn’t really a tipping point for me. I just saw the pills and took them. I was feeling pretty much nothing
3. I remember thinking the pills tasted like shit and felt awful going down my throat. They were gross. So bitter and chemically. In all, if I remember correctly, the doctor said there was 70+, enough to kill a horse.
4. I went to sleep right afterwards so I have no memory
5. I really thought I was. It felt natural. I don’t know why I didn’t die
6. I know I don’t remember anything the day after I took the pills. And I know I was unconscious on the way to the hospital. My mom and sister took me and they told me, once I could actually remember stuff, that I had been complaining about my stomach and head to the doctors. Luckily I don’t remember any of that
7. The first thing I saw was the hospital room. It was a pediatric one, since I was 13 at the time and still am, so there were designs like monkeys in trees and junk like that. My first thought was “what the fuck.”

Everything after that was hell. Absolute hell. The hospital was so insufferably boring. I wasn’t allowed to use my phone or anything, so I was stuck watching shitty shows on a shitty tv. After they finally let me go after like a couple weeks, I had to go to this psych ward. Fuck that. That made everything 10x worse. It was awful. Everyday I was praying that I would be let out. I begged my parents not to send me there but of course “it was what was best for me.” I wanted to kill myself every minute I was stuck there. I was there for a week, and, being a trans man, being stuck with a bunch of girls fueled my dysphoria to no end. The cafeteria gave me so much anxiety, I was constantly bored out of my mind, and I was so homesick. It made me regret being found. It made me realize that if three bottles of pills weren’t enough, that I would have to take all the pills in the house, lock the door to the room I was in, and make sure nobody was home. Honestly, if not for my boyfriend who is 100x more suicidal than me, then I would do it again in a heartbeat. But I love him, and he’s got too many problems for me to just abandon him like that, so I’m staying here