My story was very similar to Random Pinkness above. I'd been living with the two voices in my head for about three years, one, the rational everyday me, the other the bitch who told me how evil and worthless I was. I seem to be a little odd in that I'd been self harming for those three years as a way of making the voice go away. She was always happier after I punished myself. This time I had another argument with my partner. When I couldn't respond because everything in my head was in knots, he just walked out. About an hour later I managed to get my legs to move, and went downstairs to look for him. I found a letter from him telling me that he had been seeing someone else, and he wasn't coming back. The voice just crowed at this, and told me everyone would be better off with me gone. I wandered round the house in tears and gathered together all of the paracetmol I could find. It turned out to be only 30 tablets, but I knew that you could die from 16, and that alcohol would make it worse. I wrote a letter to my family to apologise to them for wasting their money sendiong me to university, and starting taking the pills, washing them down with vodka. I hate taking tablets, so this was a slow process, and about half an hour later my partner came back to collect his wallet. I started crying at the sight of him, so he went back over the road to the friends house he'd been at, and got one of them to come over. I remember the ambulance and the staff only vaguely, but they were being nice and asking me why I'd done it, but I was incoherant. When we got to A&E I was put in a chair off to one side while the paperwork was done. About 10 minutes later I realised I was about to throw up and someone got me a bowl. This was at about 11.30pm, and I threw up from then until 7 am when I was seen by a doctor. My partner had travelled in the front of the ambulance, and when I calmed down a bit he came and sat with me and we talked things over. None of the nurses ever came over to check how I was , and when I did see the doctor, she just told me how stupid I'd been, and gave me an injection what was supposed to stop me being sick, even though it was just bile by this point. She said someone would be in touch that week to discuss it with me. I'm still waiting for that call 7 years later. My self harming got worse, and I stayed in a borderline-emotionally abusive relationship until 2005, when he left me. If I could go back I wouldn't change anything because I beleive I was lucky enough to come out stronger than I had been, but I just wish someone had talked to me, rather than passing it off as another stupid girl's cry for help.