What is a “life”?

What is a “life”, because this constant state of nothing in which I live in cannot surely be qualified as a life.  Every single day I wake up and I wish to enter an eternal sleep.  I am not quite sure whether or not I truly want to die, but I most certainly know that I do not want to live.  If I could just enter a state of unconsciousness until I was ready to either make my decision, and off myself, or to continue living, then things would seem better.  I have attempted suicide in the past, only to fail, or to have someone “save me”, and I have come upon the idea that maybe I do deserve to continue to suffer.  Surely, I must deserve these horrid things that have been cast upon me.  Maybe happiness does not exist for a person like me, I barley even remember what it’s like to not feel a sense of pain for even so much as a millisecond.  All I know is that I am weary, and I just want all of the pain to end.  For the longest time I thought that the source of my unhappiness could be traced back to my environment, and those that are around me.  But, I now know that I could have grown up perfectly, and I could of had a perfect life, and yet I would still be messed up.  The true source of my unhappiness is me, I am messed up, and there is nothing that anyone can do to change the fact that I am fatuous screw up.