I’ve actually lost count of the times I’ve attempted it. I took my first overdose at 15 and I’m now 21, only ended up in hospital twice.
Overdosing is always my preferred method. I’m not sure why. Maybe because somewhere deep down I don’t think I will ever achieve death through that method. I don’t take comfort in thinking I’m “crying out for attention” at all.
My grandmother took/threatened to overdose in front of me when I was 12. Maybe that has something to do with it. She has a lot of demons herself. Depression has crippled her for years and she was even given electroconvulsive therapy. I don’t know how she has coped. I’m glad she has but to think of the suffering she has endured is horrific. Most of my family have depression, the sort that comes frequently. Is it something in the genes or the way we have be brought up? That old nature/ nurture argument.
My stepmom has told me on two separate occasions that if I wanted to kill myself, overdosing is the WORST way to do it. I like that she doesn’t try and convince me not to take my own life. She clearly knows how I feel and how stubborn I am.
I don’t feel “at risk” of doing anything immediately but I do have those nagging waves of “what should I try next” and my Internet history is littered with searches of the various ways to hang yourself. So basically I have not hit that desperation yet.