7 attempts. Still alive. Why?

Hey, I’m Zoe. Im 15 years old. When you look at me you would think I’m happy. I have friends. A boyfriend. It’s an okay life as of now I suppose. But due to my past, I’m going through severe clinical depression. I have an addiction to cutting. I have for about 4 years. It stuck with me even when times were getting better. They put me on zoloft.
The first time I attempted suicide, I was 11. Why? I was sick of being bullied because I was overweight. So it started out with eating disorders. Bulimia. Then I started reading poetry. And writing. When reading, I read so much about how people who cut themselves felt better. So I unscrewed a pencil sharpener and the blade was rather sharp. I closed my eyes and pressed it on my wrist. This was it. The pain would leave, right? I pulled back hard and deep. I was relieved. Until 3 days later when I went back to school. Then I needed it again. And over a course of a year it was a craving I had. It became a daily thing. Once a day. Twice a day. Sometimes 3 times. I cut everywhere. And kept going through my eating disorder. Sometimes I just wouldn’t eat. All I wanted was the razors pain. I started carving things too.
My parents fou d out a year later at age 12. About everything. I had lost 25 ibs from my eating disorder. They honestly didn’t care. But they took my blades. That’s when I lost it. My best friend at the time and I were at the mall. I fou d some blade, the good ones, in the work supply department. And stole them. I was deperate.
I started back up on my daily cutting. And it didn’t scar so that relieved me as well. Everything was good I guess.
Until it got harder. And I became more and more depressed. I had to die. That’s what I thought. I’d studied the body’s anatomy. (I know all things about suicide and what can kill you at this point but continued studying it). So I took the blade, and pulled vertically up my vein. The can’t stitch it up that way. Blood was everywhere. I felt cold and passed out. Then I woke up a while later. Blood on the floor and I was still alive. Suicide 1: fail.
The second time was a month later. Pills. I went through the medicine cabinet and got 5 pills of everything. Downed them. I walked to my room. My stomach hurt. It was dark with a small night light. I was dizzy. I felt them come back up. I puked. It was nasty. Then I could start feeling myself losing breath. I called my dad and he rushed me to the ER. I stayed there a few days. Suicide 2: fail.
I met this guy. He was so cool. But he smoked. I was under pressure. He asked me if I wanted one. I swore myself I’d never do it. But I didn’t want him to hate me, I needed friends. So I did it. And liked it. He gave me a few for home. Smoking and cutting became contant. I turned 13.Things were ok…until he moved. We still skyped, but he was struggling up north. He showed me a 9mm pistol. He was crying. He said “this is the end. I’m sorry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you.” Then the camera went on. The sound stayed on. I couldn’t stop crying. I listened to him load and lock the pistol. Then BANG! it was over. Thats where suicide attempt three happened. I was determined. I chose cutting again. 9 cuts horizontally this time. Those cuts scared. And are still there. Just my reminder of how I lost Ricky. I aimed for my neck after my wrist. But passed out before I could slice.
I was 14 the next time. 8th grade. I had just started going to this church thing. It was the first time. I still wasn’t over losing Ricky. I had also lost Alex, my first love. But Ricky was the first guy I had sex with. I met some cool people. They became like a family to me. But I had no faith in god, still don’t.
That first night I didn’t talk to many people. My cousin joday, Brittany, and maybe 2 other people. I didn’t talk to Phillip, Taylor, kuira, kitty or anybody who I love now.
During worship, I couldn’t help it. The pasture just had to talk about the people “we love”. I cried so hard. And people who I didn’t even know were there for me. I didn’t even know people like that existed. Jt, andrew, Brittany, Cody, Taylor might have been there, Phillip. And a couple others. That’s when I discovered, comfort makes me cry harder. I had friends. The next Friday they all talked to me. I told them a little. But not nearly enough. Nobody knows of Ricky.
Things still didn’t get better. That church was the best place to me. I wanted to go everyday. I love those people. Phillip became my best friend. Nick did too, but he didn’t come in until later.
I attempted suicide again though. But let’s just say that failed. Life was starting to bet better. I was becoming happy.
But still 2 more times. It ride to kill myself. My last attempt was December 2011. Taylor, you know that guy from church, yeah he saved me. That’s my boyfriend. He’s everything to me. As long as I have him I’ll never need to try again. He’s gotten me to stop cutting. Stop attempting suicide. But not drugs or smoking. That won’t happen.
That’s just a shirt description, but I think there’s a reason for life. Mine Taylor. What’s yours?