Last week at a family st Patrick’s day party I got drunk and took the rest of my antidepressants, idk how much it was but it was at least more than half the bottle left. I realized what I did was stupid because there were kids around and I didn’t want my little cousins seeing me OD so I told my aunt and she took me to the ER, that was Thursday night I don’t remember anything after getting to the ER, I was completely out of it and I didn’t wake up until Saturday morning. I wish I didn’t survive, and I’ve been in the hospital since then because there aren’t any beds available for outpatient programs, I’m just waiting for a bed. I don’t want to go to a psych ward, I’ve already been admitted 5 other times for suicidal ideation, this was my first time attempting. I don’t think life is worth living, and I don’t mean that for just me, I think for anyone. Life is so fucking mundane and pointless I don’t want to do any of it, I don’t want to “live” so I can work and pay bills for the rest of my life, what’s the point in that? And none of the people that I genuinely care about have reached out to me that know I OD’d which breaks my fucking heart, it’s like they don’t even care. I’ve been so depressed for so long, I don’t want to fight anymore and I don’t think it’s fair for people to ask me stay when they know I’m suffering. I’ve given up already, I don’t think I’ll ever get my will to live again, I’m literally dead inside and I have nothing to live for.