When I was 22 I ordered 2 bottles of pills

 **I won’t be naming the type or concentration of the pills because I don’t want anyone getting ideas** 

off AmazonUS because they didn’t sell the pills in high concentration in Canada. I put them in the corner of my closet where they sat for a few months until I mustered up the courage to take one of the bottles ( around 60 tablets). I swallowed its contents with some water and sat in my closet with the door closed crying for 10 minutes. I had saved my suicide letter on my desktop and left my laptop open, it was titled “Dear mom”.

I then burst into a panic and ran to my bathroom in an attempt to vomit. I could not, so I called 911. I was taken to the hospital put on a drip and made to vomit the contents of my stomach, after I healed physically i got 51/50’d for only three days thank GOD. 

Lately I can’t stop thinking about it, I was so alone, I didn’t have any friends I could call, my mom came all the way to Canada from my home country to be with me so I’m grateful but coming from such a rural place and having older parents that are pretty old school meant that no one really pushed me to get help and I was kind of expected to just keep going on with life. 

My uni grad was delayed by a semester because I was in the hospital during 3 of my finals, the same day I got out I was emailing profs and department heads to have my tests rescheduled, however sadly I failed the retakes. I decided I would study really hard next semester and ended up graduating with honors 3 months late. I should have been proud but I was sad, something really scary had happened yet the world around me didn’t really react. 

Maybe that’s narcissistic and self absorbed I feel really guilty about it too, like it  signifies something sick in me, so many awful people have tried to kill themselves, was I coward and a menace like them? Who is to say my self hatred is unfounded?

These questions don’t leave me, neither does the feeling of cold air in my dark empty closet as I sat in it waiting to die.

I am 25 now and I am not sure I have reconciled anything within myself, nor am I sure that my living was a positive outcome. I was just being stupid, it was just a stupid insignificant moment yet It haunts me. 

So do you think something like this could cause ptsd? I know it’s not really traumatic but the memories pop into my consciousness and shock me, crying at work has become regular, I feel my emotions are bigger than my awareness of them.