Right. Suicide attempt No 3. Although I still don’t count No 2. I was in the secure unit at the old Royal. Ward 3 on a 28 day lockdown. In that whole time one person came to see me and that was Gogs, the tranq guy fae No 2. Despite the security guard and locked doors he came strolling in to apologise.  Which was nice. And to make it up tae me he had a nice wee greaseproof envelope with 7 or 8 tabs of amphetamine sulphate.  Off he went, never to be seen again.
I left it a couple of days and had a serious think. Then necked them.  That knocked me for 6 so I wisnae aware of aw the running aboot that was going on.  Turns out that amphetamine sulphate doesn’t react well to the antidepressants, intravenous whatever to block oot the alchohol withdrawal or the hoojiminies they had me on to deal with the shredded stomach lining caused by too much bevvy.  Who knew?
So they had to pump me oot and start all over again. Bastards.  Because, like No 1, I meant it that time.  Three weeks later I was let oot with an admonishment never tae drink again.  Three minutes later I was in the old Tap O’Lauriston and Feathers the barmaid had a Guinness and a nip lined up before I’d reached the bar.  Happy teenage days.
In case you’re wondering the late Mrs H knew of my past, if not the details.  Why do you think she made me promise not to try again when she was on her death bed. That’s all that stopped me the 4 times I’ve went tae the brig.
PS – picture taken post No 1 and prior to No 2.  Whit a teenage reprobate!  PPS – previous recollections probably took place on my Instagram account mrhtou