STUPID but Alive....

This is something that is going to hurt. It will hurt to write and I am sure that all the writing will be throuh tears. If anyone out there has grown to care about me in the slightest way it will hurt them. If anyone out there has felt the same, hopefully it will not only hurt them, but help them as well. For a wee bit of backgroud please go here. It is a small (very) history.

OK. Here goes. On June 2nd I took 14mg's of Clonazepam. First 6, then 4, then another 4 - all swallowed and washed down with Cuervo chugged straight from the gallon bottle. It was enough to kill me. More than enough. Now I am no longer allowed to control my own medication. My poor husband, who has probably gone though more than I can ever imagine is in control of them and will be giving me my daily dosage one day at a time. The whole day is really blurry but I really did want to die. Not for any specific reason; just tired of life. I still feel that way - tired of life, but seeing my parents, husband's, and friends hurt and caring faces assured me that I do have the inner strength to not repeat my horrible actions. Plus throwing up all day, being kept in a normal hospital under constant watch (though my room did have full ocean view), having a leaky IV attatched to me and then what followed so makes it not worth it. I know it never is, but when you see what you have to go throuh after; all your dignity is taken away, the pain in peoples eyes, the fact that I was the only one with visitors that stayed from the beginning to the end of the allowed hours, the fact that my husband was more than willing to check himself in just to keep me company. All these things. I can never cause the people who love me so much pain ever again. And I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY mean it. I don't care what I feel like. Repeating the actions for a fourth (yes three times already, but the first 2 were in junior high and didn't kill me. 30 aspirin dont work, nor does lots of allergy medicine) time is not an option. EVER AGIAN. NEVER AGAIN. I AM SO INCREDIBLY SORRY TO EVERYONE I HURT.
Husband called after I had taken the pills. I was in tears - big time. He asked if he should come home. I said no. I was given an out and I passed on it. I dont remember much past that. I have fuzzy memories of my friend Ellen calling. I almost NEVER answer the phone but maybe I was so fucked up that I forgot that rule or maybe Ellen was sending her energy over the lines willing me to pick up. I dont know. All I know is that I picked up the phone. In tears that could not be hidden. She sensed that something was wrong and I guess I told her what I did. She called husband and told him to come home - it was a life or death situation. When H came come he said that he found me waving contracts and listing papers around. He really hoped that I hadnt called any customers :) In the ocean view hospital they asked me if I had left a note. I had remembered writing but I did not remember it being specifically a suicide note. I think I sould go read it now. BRB.