Hi everyone, My names Kelly and this was going to be in my journal but I thought I could put it here too.

30th January 2017 I wrote;

((( I've been neglecting the thought of you. Trying to block you out. It's caught up with me, I feel so awful. I'm so sad, crying today. It feels good in a way, but I hate myself for trying to blank out. I never want to forget you, you gave me so much love. I'm afraid I'm going to hurt forever. I know I'm stupid. My thoughts about suicide are ridiculous. I hate myself for being that person. But it's a part of me now, even more than before. I miss you. I want to lay next to you. I need you to just look at me again. I'm really good at hiding all this. I realise it when I think of you. You're in everything. How have people done this? I need help. Sometimes I just don't want to be here at all. )))

Hi again, if you haven't read my other two journal posts before this one, then this might not make sense. With each journal I post, I pick a page from my diary and type it on here. I believe it will help me over time. To finally show someone what I've been keeping bottled up. Even if I don't know you. I believe it will help me clear my mind a little. My last post is my story. My story of why I even started to keep a diary in the first place. The story of why I even signed up to dailystrength. 

But today I just wanted to talk about this diary writing above. And what happened in the time before I wrote it. I wrote it on the 30th January 2017. 4 months after he died. During the 4 months, I took drugs. And I also tried to overdose. But the overdose ended up turning into a mad series of hallucinations. "I know I'm stupid. My thoughts about suicide are ridiculous." "Sometimes I just don't want to be here at all." Have you ever tried to OD? On anything? What happened? For me it was 2 days before Christmas 2016 when I took the overdose. I was high anyway and decided to do it. I thought I'd just fall asleep and it'd all be over. But I ended up seeing things after about 20 minutes of sleep. I woke up wide eyed and saw giant spiders right in front of me. I was still lying down at this point. They were at the bottom of my double bed. They ended up running up and all over me. I freaked out at first pulling the covers over my head and hiding for a while hoping they'd leave. It was about 1AM. It didn't even occure to me that these spiders where giant and neon in colour. I had no idea I was hallucinating. It was all real to me. The memory of even taking anything beforehand was out the window. I thought what I was seeing was real and ready to eat me. 

I slid sideways out of bed and stood up staring at my covers. I must've looked like I was high and completely wasted. I was convinced the spiders were hiding underneath my covers so I grabbed my makeup mirror and waited. I inched slowly around my bed moving towards the door. Little did I know there was actually nothing crawling in my room or under my bed sheets, I was just completely out of it. But suddenly one ran from under the covers and lauched straight at me. I slammed my mirror down on it, shaking. I'm surprised my mirror didn't break. Then I saw hundreds of tiny spiders crawl out from undernearth my mirror, all over my bed. I ran out my room, and downstairs to the the landing of the first floor of my house. Somehow I had my phone in my hand. And the torch shining on the floor. 

I don't remember this part but my mother who I woke up at the time, told me I was pacing up and down on the landing like a crazy person. She never knew I did drugs so she really thought something was wrong. My mother isn't one to panic aloud. She just stood at her bedroom door and told me to come to her quietly. She didn't want to wake my older sister up who was sleeping next door. I had no sense of time or loudness. My mother knows I'm strong willed so she told me to just get into bed with her to sleep it off. She never actually asked me what happened, I just remember looking at her as I lay top and tail in her bed with her. I remember looking at her face as she stared right at me wanting to cry. Now her eyes were wide eyed. I knew something was wrong so I lay down slowly and closed my eyes making it look like I was going to sleep. I knew I fucked up.

A few minutes after I lay down, It all came back to me. The overdose. The time it was. How loud I might have been during it all. My house is basically made of paper so I must've been really loud. I lay there staring at the all the junk that was piled and smooshed into the corner of the room. Our house was going through "the change" so everywhere was a mess. I was quite sober laying there, awake. I was thinking of my excuses for the following day. I studied the pile of junk for what might have been hours as my mom was snoring like she'd been asleep for a week. I was scared. There was no way I was going to tell her I tried to kill myself.

Maybe an hour passed and the pile of junk started to look like people. I felt my eyes dry up. I lay there on my side, probably half hanging off the bed. I couldn't blink. I was going back into my hallucination stage. I had no idea. It was dark and the only light sorce was a dim lamp amongst all the junk. Everywhere I looked I saw a different person. Who all seemed to be hiding and pointing guns at me. I recognised one person who was hiding, Emory Cohen. An american actor. And looking back now I did watch a movie with him in it the day before I took the overdose. But of course, it was all real to me at the time. Three men pointed guns at me as I lay there. I wasn't aware that it was just a pile of clothes and furniture piled together, with a dim light shining inbetween it all. I spoke out, "Just shoot me then". Emory nodded, still in hiding, pointing his gun right at my forehead. He wasnt more than 4 feet away from me. I was convinced I was going to die right there and then. I slid out of bed onto the floor, sat up and leaned against it. Still looking straight at Emory. Little did I know I had woken my mother who was watching me the whole time on the floor. I'd forgotten where I was. I wasn't even aware of anything else around me. I was hoping the gun would've been shot by now.

Again, I don't remember this part but my mother told me that I was lying on my back on the floor saying, "Just do it, just kill me then" When she told me, I refused that it ever happened. How stupid. I only could remember leaning up against the bed. I had no idea I was on my back on the floor too. Anyway. Some time passed that night as I sat there on the floor. I must have looked like something out of Paranormal Activity to my mother. I sobered up again. God knows how long my mother must've have watched me. Maybe she thought I was sleepwalking as she did tell me long ago that I used to sleep walk as a child. (who knows) She never did ask me what happened that night. Maybe she knew? She told me to get back into bed, it was first light when I looked out of the window. I couldn't believe a whole night had passed. It felt like 20 minutes to me. I got back into bed silently, sober, scared. I shut my eyes and eventually fell asleep. I slept for over 12 hours. What an insane trip.

Oh and the next day I was violently ill. Paramedics said it was a toxic dosage and I should be taken into hospital but I refused as it'd only be questions from my family which I could not face.

The whole purpose of me taking the overdose was to be with my boyfriend again. I was in such a bad head space when I did it. I had no idea I was going to have such an insane trip over night. I spent Christmas day reflecting on what happened. Hardly spoke, didn't eat. My mother stuck up for me saying I've been ill the past few days. I thank her for that. I was quite psyched and in awe that my body and mind allowed me to go to such lengths. For the months after he died and inbetween the overdose I was bored, lonely and extremely sober and upset. I couldn't believe I was able to lose my mind like that. It made me feel human.

I didn't write in my diary for a month after that. Which is why I was apologising for neglecting the thought of him in my writing. "I've been neglecting the thought of you. Trying to block you out. It's caught up with me, I feel so awful." I thought trying to block him out would help the process of getting over him. I've never been more wrong. Being in love isn't a seasonal thing. Not for me anyway. He is my love for life. Even if he isn't here. He is also my fucking poison who could kill me at any time.

So yeah, this post was about me overdosing on love and loss (and drugs). I'll be writing in my journal again soon. Thanks