I've taken another overdose. Well, on Tuesday night/Weds morning. I took 18 paracetemol tablets and washed it down with alcohol along with other medicines.
I...I have been in hospital since then, on a drip, lying to my family more than ever, but being more open than before if you get my meaning. Now that I'm home, I think I'm on suicide watch on the moment, considering that the amount I took was said to be a fatal amount and I have done damage to my liver, but it's recuperating. And I'm resting trying to not to work too hard and I'm trying so hard to see what has changed in my life. I know that for one thing I'm not so afraid of death anymore. And I know that I'm going to die soon, much sooner than I thought if I carry on this way. I don't think my feelings have caught up with me yet, I'm so tired and weak and everything is so surreal. My brother actually hugged me, for one thing. And me and Mum bonded. Ay, I have so much to tell you, I'll have to break it up into three parts, give me something to look forward to until Dad comes home and I return to college to the wrath from my teachers.
And god, despite everything that's been happening I'm still worrying about my two essays. God, has anything changed at all? Am I going to make it to university? I don't know, I don't know. I should have talked to someone to talk me out of the ... attempt? Who knows, I'm going to rest some more. I broke a promise and I'm sorry.