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2012-12-04 22:50:14 (UTC)

Kind-of Overdosing

10:50 PM

Lily has been taking a lot of pills.... too many. She spaces them, like I used to do, before I thought to myself, "Fuck it!" so I swallowed the rest of the bottle, about 20 or so pills, not to mention that in the twenty four hours before swallowing those pills, I had swallowed twenty or more.

I don't know if that factored in...

I hate talking about overdosing... It's the most horrible feeling. Not just physically, but MENTALLY. You're screaming at yourself, wanting to die of shame more than ever, just wanting death, but oh wait: That's what you had been trying to do in the first place.

That's how you failed.

I hate talking about this... I really do. I feel so ashamed. But I have to, because I need to et this story straight in my head, because most likely I will need to tell Lily the exact details before she goes to far.

Besides, I deserve this. I was a coward.

My overdose was not as bad as most people's. It takes a lot of pills to land you in the hospital and I only took twenty, tops forty seven.

I remember going to sleep around midnight feeling horribly sick, and then waking up again at five in the morning feeling worse.

I realized there was this awfully loud ringing in my ears, and voices sounded like they were underwater. My head was pounding and I felt like every part of me could puke.

The worst part is, I couldn't puke.

I couldn't do anything.

I was shaking violently, unable to sleep from the pain and unable to move from that same pain. I was crying because I had done it to myself. I texted Lily never to do what I did but I really wish I hadn't. She reacted saying I should've spaced them out, and I felt even more stupid. Should've kept it to myself.

And when I was yelling at Lily today in class... Telling her not to take so many... I half shouted that in order to get rid of that horrible feeling, I had to make myself puke twice.... I think other people heard me.

Honestly, I don't care. They don't care either.

It was just nonstop beating myself up, because I didn't want to admit to myself that.... I couldn't let myself die.

I couldn't be selfish.

I couldn't be suicidal.

The worst part is, when I took all those pills, I had been having a good day. I hadn't wanted to die.

I had just been hoping that maybe... maybe I wouldn't wake up. It was accidently on purpose.

The symptoms lasted for a week. I was shaky and nauseous for a week, constantly reminding myself of what an IDIOT I was.

I'm so scared.

I am going to go, now. You all know of my cowardice, I suppose.

I'm not smart.

I can't control myself. And here, I ask people to do what I can't.

I think I just want everyone to be happy.

And I think it's getting harder to wait for January 10.

It's so easy as a kid.

So easy to be selfish yet sad.