My family? Is some of the reason I went crazy too. I kept myself sane though. But not much but I've been to the hospital nine times for suicide attempts. My left arm barely feels pain in it. Well blades that it I don't feel it. I was stupid for switching to kitchen knives thinking that was gonna do the job. Finally, I tried something new. Overdosing. It seemed like a good idea since I lost my boyfriend that meant the world to me. I overdosed on like fifteen to twenty risperodones. I tried throwing up but my body wouldn't let me so I grew tired. The only one that knew was my brother Allen and he cared about it. I decided to walk around the apartment but my body grew so tired it was starting to not cooperate. It was raining so when I got back inside I was drenched. I took a shower and lost the strength to move. I changed and hopped into my moms bed. I stopped moving completely. My eyes stopped moving my breath shortened a little. It was getting hard for air to reach my lungs. I was in my stomach and my mouth hung open with my eyes just staring out. I couldn't move even if I tried what's worse was that I had to live through this overdose. No tubes shoved down my throat because I didn't tell anyone else about. My brother Allen started to get worried he came in there and checked my pulse I had a weak, fair pulse. "Your alright for now" he said. I grew to hate this feeling. After a day my mom started to take notice because of how much I was sleeping. The reason I was sleeping so much is because my body wanted to sleep long enough for it to shut down completely at least that is what doctor told me. I told my mom what happened I was so fucked up I could barely gather my clothes to the car for the hospital trip. My eyes lost sight for a little bit everything was so blurry. When I got to the hospital there was nothing they could do but let the body fight back. The drug was already in there too long. I wind up convulsing a few times but no one was there to see it.
