The last time I thought about it was 6 years ago. After 4 weeks of doing research I had a plan that was lethal. Something stopped me. It wasn't family or the thought of my death. It was concern. For some reason I was worried about traumatizing the person who would find me. It was enough to keep me alive. The urges were very strong for about three days. Somehow I got through it, without telling anyone, even my psychiatrist, who was treating me for depression at the time. She only found out about it two years later. - I kept so much from her.
My first attempt was at 18. Certain medications seemed to induce suicidal thoughts. When I was on them, I was constantly suicidal. It was awful and traumatizing. Out of misery, I stopped all medications when I was 20. My head cleared and the thoughts disappeared.
I have been to the ER and found it to be the most invalidating place. I can still remember being told at the age of 20, that I was always feeling suicidal by a nasty psychiatrist. I'll never forget her. I stopped visiting the ER after that, and will never ever go back to one for that reason. Ever.