coping skills not working

I have been depressed for the past few days and my coping skills are not working. Because of this I thought about cutting my wrist but instead I mixed my meds up a bit and slept. I guess you can say that I was a drunk because all I did in the morning was stumble around.
I didn’t plan on doing this I just couldn’t cope with the pain of living anymore. I needed an escape and I needed it badly. I know I could have called my psychiatrist or therapist but most likely they would have said go to the ER. The ER is useless. You wait for hours to be seen because more urgent cases take precedent and because you are not actively doing anything to harm yourself you just are forced to sit and wait. Then when you get put into a room you are searched, made to give a urine sample and might have blood drawn if they think you need to be admitted. Or you might have blood drawn anyways if you overdosed like I did last night. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to cut really bad and I knew that if I did and I needed stitched I would be screwed. Least with OD’g you don’t leave scars. I didn’t OD with the plan to kill myself. I just wanted an escape for a few hours as things have been shitty the past few days. I told my sister that I wanted to be a man. She asked if me if I was sure. I started to break down. Obviously I wasn’t that obvious to my family. I was just a tomboy that never grew out of it. Except tomboys don’t usually wear men’s clothes all the time. This has been the most difficult conversation that I have had in a long time, since I came out as being gay. I refuse to use the word lesbian because I am a male not a female.
I want to be able to tell my family this year because I will be going to a clinic soon as I get the guts to call to make an appointment. I don’t want to start the hormones and then questioning me why I have facial hair. I have a little facial hair now but it’s kind of stupid looking because there is a space in the middle of it.
I just want to be myself. I don’t want to hurt anyone. The only person getting hurt is me because I can’t be who I am. That is why I want to cut, want to OD, want to kill myself. Though I still feel like it would be better to bury me as their “daughter” than as their “son”. My parents are of the old generation. They don’t understand things of today. Much less gender identity disorder or being transgender. Right now I guess you can say that I am just a crossdresser except my damn boobs get in the way of that. How I loathe my boobs. It is one part that I hate the most. I want to look at my chest and see nothing but my pectoral muscles, not breast material.
The biggest question so far that I have had since coming out as transgender is when am I going to have surgery. Are you kidding me? Let me get used to being freely who I am first!! Let me try the hormones first and see how they work. I hate to think of surgery before hormone replacement and most surgeons won’t do it unless you truly have been living as the opposite sex for some time. It is not an easy thing to go through. And mentally it messes with you big time.
I know this road I have been on is the right now. My sister was worried that it is going to mess with my depression. What she doesn’t realize is that part of my depression is not being who I truly am.