i have struggled with serious depression since I was about 14. I am now 22, and in the 8 years that this has been an issue for me, i have had probably a year and a half total time when I wasn’t honestly thinking about killing myself. I have had the suicide note written and the method laid out before so many times that I have lost count. but I always cop out right at the end. i have never officially attempted suicide, but I cut and I drink and i smoke and I do anything else that might, maybe, take a little bit of the edge off. None of it works for long and here I am again in a wicked deep depression. I can’t tell anyone because I can’t stand the thought of worrying my family and friends. And I do have family and friends. And those people care about me. Some members of my family not so much. I grew up in an abusive situation thanks to my step father. He was emotionally and physically abusive and I learned to just shut up and take whatever he threw at me so that the punishment was as light as possible. I was sexually abused by and uncle and raped by a man in my freshman year of college. i never knew my biological father because he is a heroin addict and he’s been in jail for most of my life. i keep holding out hope that my life will get better, but I haven’t managed to get a break from major life catastrophes for more than 9 months. Ever. In my life. Whether the catastrophe is a death, abuse, the loss of someone I love because they have rejected me… something like that. And it’s been 22 years! at least one horrible thing happens to me once a year and I really can’t take it any more. I have a friend who lets me talk to her about all of the stuff that I am feeling, but she is getting warn down and I really don’t want to hurt her. the song “Hate Me” by Blue October is a perfect summation of my feelings for this friend. And then I feel guilty for the pain I cause her. And if I did kill myself, I would leave behind a mother that has done everything she could for me, and a 4 year old brother that I love with all my heart. but some days (and those days are more and more frequent lately) that is not enough to keep me from these thoughts. I know that the advice that I am going to get here is to go check myself in to a hospital or something, but the shame and guilt of doing that and of facing my family and friends if I did that would just make me feel worse. I have tried meds, I have tried therapy… none of it makes a dent in the pain that I feel. There is no other option for ending it. But I just can’t do it. Because I love the people around me too much. but if I am living my life for the people around me, is it really my life?