My Story. [Lenthy]

Hey, I have just started using this today and I need someplace to get this out of my head.
I am a teenager going into high school, and I have had suicidal thoughts ever since I broke up with my girlfriend. We were very loving to each other but then my, “friends” trash talked about me and said that I was a jerk only seeking sexual pleasure, which was not true. My girlfriend believed them and started to get mad and then shut me out. I was never told that my friends were talking crap about me until my girlfriend and I broke up. She told me through text and said that all my friends hated me, she wants me out of my life, and that all of my friends suck up all the negativity I bring to this world. Then, I told her that I was planning to commit suicide. She freaked out and tried to make things better, but I could tell that my ex only tried to make her look not as bad. I hated the people I stupidly called, “my friends.”
Randomly, my mom barged in seeing my red eyes and runny nose. She asked what was wrong but I told her to leave. This was the first mistake that I made, I kept my break up a secret which added tension in my life.
About one month later, school has began to wither me down. I had a lot of projects coming up which would determine my grade in the class. I was freaking out since I am still trying to recover from my friends’ betrayal. Video games were my only escape to relieve stress, but my mom would take them away, and yell at me with a tone that made me more anxious. I hated my mom.
Then finally, that same month, my brother, who was a complete asshole to me, told me to get a life and started calling me gay, worthless, and retarded. he usually does this about once every month which made me afraid of going around the house. I walked to my room to prevent any fights, but he pursued me. He kept yelling at my mom, my father, and me, I hated my entire family.
That night, I had a plan. I would overdose on painkiller, but the catch I would fake it. I ostentatiously took the bottle of Advil and walked out of the house with it in front of my brother. As I went out side, I opened the bottle, spilled it all over the ground, opened the front gates and hid in my garage. My brother came sprinting out and after seeing both the bottle and gate ajar, he ran back inside to get my parents. Once they went inside, I stood outside the door. My brother, with tears streaming down his eyes, asked me how many pills I ate. I told him that I took none and I was fine. Although I didn’t take any, my family was in panic and I was brought inside. It was 12 a.m., and finally my brother confessed that he still cared for me. Before this, I was going to kill myself thinking that they would forget in the next couple weeks, but they all worried about me and wanted me to live. I soon got into therapy but I have not told him this entire story. I have learned to not keep things bottled up inside or else I would snap. This statement is also why I want to share this. All though, I may hate my life from time to time, suicide is not the answer and can be perceived as selfish. I love my family and I should have never brought as much pain as I did to them that night.
Sorry for the lengthy story, but if you read it, tell me your response. Thank you for being that special person that would listen to my long story.