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Mike and I got into ANOTHER horrible fight last night. It got so bad he had to slap me a few times to get me to stop some nonsense talk I was babbling. It never hurt, but by the end of the night I ended up talking suicide and well.... obviously I'm still here.

I tried to overdose on Advil PM. 200 mg ibuprofen and 38 mg of a sleep aid in each pill. I took ten. All at once. Almost immediately things got calmer even though we were both freaking out; he couldn't believe I had just done it, I was in a fit over the fact that I did to him what Dustin did to me. He didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

I had been trying to make him hate me. I was trying to prove a point to him. But obviously it didn't work because at the end of the night he told me he still loved me. I felt like (and STILL feel like) such a fool. I felt terrible.

After the reality sunk in that I had just tried to overdose, he was begging me to throw it all back up and, in my state of sudden fear of what I had just done to him, I forced two and three fingers down my throat. No luck. I couldn't fully induce myself to vomit. Guess this means I'll never be bulimic, heh heh.

Almost right after that, he called Poison Control, asking if ten of those pills really could be lethal, as I had gotten a HUGE headache and could barely stay awake. (Then again, they WERE sleep aids.) The man told him no, ten wasn't lethal, but he sounded a little wary and asked for Mike's zip code and county, which made me chuckle some at the fact that he probably though Mike was gonna do something. I told Mike that I bet they get numerous cases like that.

By the end of the night, I fell asleep, and he stayed with me until I did. And I slept like a log. I'm still a little drowsy even now. I think... I shall go catch a few more z's.