It was October 25, 2018. I remember most of it. I didn't remember it all until people started telling me pieces of the story that they know and it began to come together. Still to this day there are some parts I do not quite remember. It was a normal thursday, at least what was normal for me at that time. I was dealing with my depression and anxiety to an extent I have never had before. I seeked help though. I was seeing my counselor at school, my doctor prescribed me medication to help, and I was seeking help with the local sexual assault counseling services in town. I went to class like normal then saw my counselor at 10 like I did every thursday. I was driving home after my session and for some reason something just broke me. I began to cry uncontrollably and I just felt like I wanted to crawl in a hole. I went to one of my many hiding spots. This exact one was at the park close to home and parked by the cemetery. I just kept crying and could not stop for the life in me. I then began to question everything about my life, such as. Why am I even alive? Who would miss me? Who would care? Why do I care? I then began searching in my purse that sat in the passenger seat of my car for the medication the doctor prescribed me for my depression and anxiety. I finally looked at the bottles and the tears stopped. It was as if the idea of finding my pills and taking all of them helped the crying stop. I never thought this next idea would ever come into my head. "I should just take them all and end this all." So there I was with 116 pills of Xanax and Prozac and a bottle of mountain dew. I began swallowing as many at a time until the bottles were no longer showing an existence of pills. I sat there and just cried out of joy to know that I wouldn't ever have a negative thought again. I began to feel very high and slowly slipping out of consciousness then my mom was there and an officer. That's all I truly remember, and the rest is just what others told me. The next thing I remember was waking up in my bed at 4pm on Friday. I've been told that my childhood resource officer is the one who responded to the call and talked me into getting the ambulance and was hysterical with emotions that I would do such a thing. My high school resource officer showed up in my ER room and stayed the whole time. My mom was there with my brother and was kept out of my room. My sister in Minnesota was very worried and upset while waiting for word on an update my mom was given. I have been told that many people were scared I was going to pull through. "It's just not like you." is what everyone says to me. They are right, it was not like the normal me. I am so outgoing, bubbly, and a happy individual, at least I use to be. I struggle with my doings and my conditions daily but I will not go to the extent to take my own life again. I do not regret what I did but it will not be something I try for a second time. It was a blessing in disguise. I learned how much my life means to not just others but to myself. How much value life holds and how lucky I am to have people who surround me with love. Now to just love myself as much as others do and my life would be the best life possible.