Regret17

Regret17

I'm not really sure what to say here, but here goes... I'm a guy. I was born and raised in the suburbs of the city of rain, a.k.a. Portland, Oregon. Not that I mind the rain at all. I actually really like rain. I'm currently 16, but I'll be 17 in about a month and a half. I'm a junior in high school. I don't want to talk about my childhood because I believe that the past is the past and it's best not to dwell on it. I like helping people. It's one of the few things that makes me happy. I act completely differently in public than I do when I'm alone. There are two people who I call my friends, but I use the word "friends" very lightly here because I rarely get to see either of them. One lives far away from me, and the other is too busy and never has time for me. All of my relationships so far have ended poorly, and I've been single for 9 months now. I have a family, but it's broken. My parents are divorced, and I live with my mom. I haven't seen my dad in awhile, and I hope I never see him again. My mom and I are like strangers. Passing my mom in the hall is like passing a random person on the street. I have only one sibling, my sister, and she is the only person in my family that I actually feel bonded to. I don't really have any special talents. I spend most of my time outside school watching movies and listening to music, but I like going for walks at night. I love the smell of fresh cool air. I first attempted suicide about a year and a half ago. Since then I've attempted it more times than I can remember, and I've got the scars to show for it. Most of my attempts have been with a razor blade, but I've also tried carbon monoxide poisoning and acetaminophen overdose. I'm not a fighter. Not in any sense of the word. It's often difficult to find the motivation to do things. My primary reason for attempting suicide is that my life is empty, pointless, barren, and I have no good reason to keep living. I once sought psychiatric help to see if I could get medication that might make me feel better. The doc said she was "concerned with [my] level of depression" but refused to prescribe me any medication. I like to run away with my imagination, and dream of things that make me happy, but reality always catches up to me. Now I'm just not sure what to do with myself. I'm not sure if I should keep going, or just give up.