It was quite traumatic for me. Not the experience itself but the realization that "yeah I can do this, This is a possibility". My will power can outweigh my instinct for survival.

I overdosed on both of my attempts. The first one I never got medical help and was throwing up in bed for four days or so but I recovered. The second time my brother found me and I got sent to the ER. This was after a breakup. I didn't do it because of her. It was more about being incredibly depressed before all of that and then realizing being alone just wasn't tolerable to me. The ER gave me activated charcoal, and surprisingly sent me home the next morning. They really should have sent me to the psych hospital because I did need help at the time. I guess the benefit of being depressed at the time is a lack of cognitive ability and lack of resources. Having that would have greatly decreased the odds I would be here today.

The predominate feeling I had was hopelessness and unbearable sadness. Afterwards I still had all of that plus some self hate for trying and I felt a lot of isolation.

I could not have known what the next ten years were going to be like but they have been good enough for me to want to get better. I'm not saying I'm ok and there is days that all I can think about is not existing. I do have some hope to be able to get better.

I also have a family that depends on me. Different from growing up with a family, life feels different when you know your wife/child will never be ok without me here. I know my wife would not be able to cope and I think losing a parent by suicide is an instant ticket for a hard and traumatic life. When I get consumed with all of thoughts and emotions of not being good enough, burden to everyone, worthless I use my family to ground my feelings and to help me understand that those are symptoms of my depression and not a reasonable or logical set of thoughts.