Will something just kill me?

First time poster on here. Just giving it a go i guess.

First off; forgive any typo’s, my wireless keyboard is playing up and sometimes misses or adds letters. Sorry.

Jumping into it then; I’m just coming up 19, living at home with my mum though my parents are seperated. Up until my teens i had it very easy, dad was in a well paying stable job, home life was fine, nothing abusive or any other stereotypical bad background stuff, things were good. I’ve always been intelligent, school always came easily, and social interaction was second nature, leading me to bond mainly with people older than myself as i craved an equal maturity level.

Regardless of how good my upbringing was, i first took myself to a doctor at age 13 due to my thoughts and feelings. He sent me straight off to CAMHS (Child and Adult Mental Health Services) and a few councelling sessions with them did nothing and i discharged myself and continued on my own. My parents had no input in this, the first they knew of it was when they found one of my CAMHS appointment cards. My moods became darker, i found myself becoming aggressive and frustrated at the slightest provocation, and by age 16 i had deliberately isolated myself from the once thriving social life i had, as i just couldn’t tolerate the people around me any more.

Stroppy teenager; yes, probably. The last year though has SUCKED. I’ve never been religious, i hold a very nihilistic view on life, but the last 12 – 15 months have really taken it out of me. In (roughly) chronological order;

I managed to find a girl who i can honestly and truly say i loved. The thought of her alone dragged me from the darkest places i could get myself into, to add a mental image, she was the light in the dark. However, our personalities matched perfectly – which meant we shared the same fierce pride and determination, so our arguments were often explosive, however we could each see past them within the day and go completely back to normal within hours.

A very bad day for myself coupled with my parents AGAIN breaking up (that was a whole dramatic scene in itself, i’m telling you it could have come straight from a soap opera) and fuelled by an arrgument with my love, i hit cocaine. And i hit it again. And again.

-A month gap in my memory-

I come off cocaine and find that my love is long gone, driven away by my own selfishness and drug induced distancing, and i am completely alone withoutregular  friends, family or the one incredible aspect of my life.

One of my older friends whom i’d shared a great deal with but unfortunately couldn’t see very often, died in a car crash. 2 weeks before christmas. This was my first experience of the death of a person i care about.

I pull myself together. I struggle to better myself and i beg the forgiveness of my lost love, travelling across the country to see her, sleeping on the streets for 3 nights in the cold of february just for 5 minutes with her where she tells me she’s already moved on and is with someone else and that i should never see her again.

I return home a broken man, consumed by the knowledge that i drove her away into the arms of someone else, and that i have only myself to blame, and within the week a friend who had been helping me through the pain of losing her, then kills himself. I never got to thank him for listening when nobody else would. I guess now looking back that he was trying to cope with his own pain by focusing on mine, so i feel partially responsible for his death.

After this event, the career in the army that i had been working toward for 5 years, was taken from me with the revalation that due to my CAMHS sessions 6 years previously, i was permanently barred from enlistment due to mental instability. So i was held down with the weight that a mistake as a 13 year old had cost me the dream of signing up, and ruined the next 30 years of my life that i had planned.

I still struggled to better myself after this rough patch. I dropped college when the army rejected me (as i was on a public services course to try and enter as an officer, it seemed futile to continue) but got myself a full time job, i had money coming in, i bought myself my first car and started seeing other people and getting a life back.

Then my girlfriend phoned me one night in tears saying she’d just swallowed a bottle of pills and she was sorry. I broke the front door down and called an ambulance for her unconscious body myself, and spent 4 hours in the hospital watching her heart rate raise no higher than 60 bpm.

A couple of months on, she had decided to hate me (I promise you i’m not leaving any embarassing details out – i literally did NOTHING to deserve it, nothing at all) and never wanted to speak to me again, so i continued on.

A couple of months later, she’s spread ALL sorts of rumours around my entire town, everybody i pass in the street glares at me, i am public enemy number one. For no reason. They vandalise my car, I’m physically assaulted with no provocation, the whole works.

Mum kicks me out because of my “attitude”, i lose my job as i have no stable home and am unable to regularly attend work, and I’m flat broke with no friends to help me.

I turn to dealing as my only form of making money, and manage to get myself back into mums house and have a little money coming in.

And then (we’re now at approx. 1 week ago in my timeline) the girl i was seeing tells me she’s 9 weeks pregnant. I beg and plead and say everything i can to convince her to keep it, asking even that she simply carries the child and then signs over parentage to me when it’s born and never sees it again, but she aborts it anyway. With remarks such as “oh for f***s sake, if you want it so much i can ask them to save a few pieces of it to send back to you”

Which brings me to where i am today. The last year has just been… relentless. Any humanity i had in me has been taken, I’m a shell of what i could – or SHOULD have been, i’m a college drop out drug dealer with no higher education and no career plans, with no money and a very screwed up view of the world, and it all feels like it’s my fault. I’m not gonna kill myself – I’m not weak enough to take the easy option out (or maybe i’m just too stubborn?) but every day i wake up and beg for something to kill me, i just seriously cannot be bothered any more.

Sorry for the massive rant, it ended up longer than i intended. I don’t expect anyone to have read it all but hey, it feels a little better to get it all down in print.