My mom used to put me down a lot and emotionally abuse me, to the point where it was literally driving me insane and I couldn't do it anymore. I had to escape, and there was only one way that I could think of to do that.<br /> So I attempted, won't get into details. <br /> 911 was called and I was taken to the hospital, on the way there though the paramedic said "feeble attempts were made" and I'll never forget that, it made me so angry and upset with myself, that I was so useless I couldn't even properly kill myself, or even attempt to. <br /> Anyways, after that I got put into therapy, and a whole bunch of other things and in the end I'm glad I didn't do it, because I would not have met any of my ex boyfriends, or my current boyfriend. I would not have met all the friends I made at therapy. I would not have become best friends with my best friend. I would not have been able to become a cop. I would not have been able to do anything.<br /> <br /> Instead of choosing the easy way out I chose to stay and work things out, I don't know why, I was certainly ready to go and nothing was holding me back. But something in me decided to stay, and I'm very very very grateful for that.<br /> <br /> But, because of the situation I was in, I can no longer be around people who have bad depression or any major problems of the sort, as it reminds me back of my time and the more I think about it the more I dwell on it and start to think of doing it again. So unfortunately, if somebody is talking to me about suicide I can only try to talk them out of it for so long until I have to stop so I won't end up harming myself.

@SheAngel<br /> <br /> If you told me this a few months ago, I probably would’ve happily agreed. However, after therapy and finding happiness in my life, I am very happy that I had supporting friends and family. <br /> <br /> I am happy I am alive and know I have the options to create a better life for myself. Depression is a sinkhole of circular, negative thoughts that seem relentless and impossible to fix. It really takes dramatic change for you to slap awake and realize…life is a big game and not to be taken too seriously…nobody gets out of it alive anyways, so why end it now? <br /> <br /> I believe that the people who try to help aren’t cruel. The person who’s attempting suicide is the cruelest person, I believe. It’s very tunnel-visioned to throw away all the positive relations you have with others for the sake of your own happiness. It’s cheesy to think about, but it’s really important to realize you’ll be hurting others if you attempt suicide. I never thought about it or really thought that’d be the case when I attempted, but it turned out very true. <br /> <br /> In short terms, I can understand that they have a choice, but the people who want them to live have every right to fight for that. In the end it’s the person’s choice whether they want to die or live. Hopefully, the person will realize life is better because it’s what they make of it.<br />

People need to stop telling people not to commit suicide. If their life is so bad it's not right to make them suffer. Back way back when they never cared just because time moved on doesn't mean you get to take someone's right away to be happy. If they are sad and just can't do it let them. It's not your choice. People who try to stop them and call them crazy or physco or mental are cruel people. They could care less about peoples lives.. Just if they live a life of hell.

A month, or maybe two, ago I had attempted suicide.<br /> <br /> However, I obviously made it. It brought back memories of my first attempt and how I felt like I had failed myself at a very simple task. In that mindset, I was better off dead because I felt nothing but disgust for me and for everyone else. <br /> <br /> After that I've been going to therapy and taking anti-depressants. While this may seem cliche or not seem to apply to those who're still having problems, it has really turned my life around. Everyday is 10x better than it used to be, even if it's a bad day. <br /> <br /> I hope everyone who posted in this thread has tried to get help for themselves regardless of how hopeless it may seem. It takes effort which you owe to yourself.

I have always felt different from other people ever since I went to my private k-8 school; I was with the same classmates for nine years (give or take a few transfers). This lead to my social life being rather unbalanced, I had only two friends at a time during those nine years. However, when I went to high school things changed. I went from a school of 200 to a school of 1000; it was a huge shock to me. And by the end of freshman year I only had one friend, my social life continued to be non-existent to the point where my mother got worried and we had many arguments.<br /> <br /> <br /> Then by my junior year I had finally started to make more friends, in fact three, it was amazing but was also the start of my depression. In January I started to cut my left arm, just like how my best friend from my old school showed me. I stopped until February of that year, when I continued cutting. My new best friend found out and tried to help me, but I was hooked. I was addicted and could only stop for a week or so, I even cut a few times at school in the bathroom. However, due to my best friend trying to stop me (by taking away my razors) I started to use staples, pencil sharpeners, anything I could find.<br /> <br /> <br /> My parents then found out, I was taken to a therapist immediately but she went MIA during that summer. So I was left to my own devices, I still continued to cut to the point where I stopped counting (I know I cut over 400 times) and my urge for suicide grew. At first it was just thoughts of being gone, leaving, death, and then plans. I had made dozens of plans in my head, times, dates, and different ways. I tried to drown myself in my own bathtub (but I knew it wouldn’t work, I just wanted to die), I then found the perfect time December of my senior year I got a huge box of sleeping pills. But I didn’t take them my best friend (now girlfriend) stopped me over the phone; that was when I was given a new therapist as well as an appointment to see a psychiatrist. <br /> <br /> <br /> I was readily diagnosed for moderate major depressive disorder, and given medication, which has been the best thing in my life (as well with therapy). I slowly but surely stopped having the constant thoughts of dying, as well as the cutting stopped. I am now happy about my life and am finally in control of it. <br /> <br /> <br /> However, I know I am still slightly addicted to self-harm, I continue to struggle with other forms of it (mainly lip picking, and hair pulling at the moment). Sometimes I look at my scars and remember the blood that once dripped from them, I miss it sometimes. I just miss the sight and feeling, and whenever I see and razor blades (even at the store) I get reminded and feel a slight urge to grab them. I regret it now, cutting that first time, because it’s going to stay with me forever. There is nothing to change that, I just know I cannot make another slice, it would just start me over again.<br /> <br /> <br /> As for my slight attempt at suicide I do sometimes regret not succeeding but also am glad I am still alive. Also when I was really depressed it did get worse at night because I would have the perfect opportunity to sit and think and stew in my negative thoughts. <br /> <br /> <br /> Sorry for the very long post, and sorry for telling my life story :/<br />

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I think about it constantly. I talk to therapists about it, so basically.. it lives with me everyday. People push me to talk about it. It's like never ending. Something I will never escape.<br /> <br /> Sometimes, yes. I've tried, I've been hospitalized over it. :/ I've starved myself, but that never seemed to work. I've tried drinking bleach, I puke it up before it does any damage or someone catches me in the act. It's like.. I want it to happen. So badly. But NOTHING I do works. So I just learned to accept the fact that I'm going to have to live with my failures, and heart breaks, and misery. and beatings. I've gotten jumped for no reason. My own mother has went to jail for my abuse. It's like.. I've come to grits with the fact that I have to live. I do not WANT to, but maybe since all of my attempts have failed.. it's a sign that maybe I have something TO live for that I don't quite understand yet?<br /> <br /> And yes. I do think about it at night. All the time. What could have been. What death would be like. What not being able to feel this pain would be. And I also think of all the things I wouldn't have been able to experience if some of my suicide attempts had succeeded.. I ask myself everyday... is it worth it? Is some of these good things, even though very few and minor, are they worth living for? Are things going to get better? Because lately.. they just get worse.

Sorry, I double posted

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- Do you still think of it after attempting? <br /> <br /> Only all the time.<br /> <br /> - Do you regret not having accomplished it? <br /> Absolutely. I've tried many times. I try to tell myself to wait, and maybe I will stop thinking about it, but it just comes back and I find myself saying things that are open ended. Like, "Sure, we could do that...if we get to that point.." or things of that nature.<br /> <br /> - Late at night, does it fester your mind?<br /> Not exactly every night. But yes, when I have nothing to think about when I'm up awake, it comes to mind. <br /> <br /> I find myself not caring about anything. That is how it all started. First, I started experimenting with substance abuse, and then I continued. I didn't care. Then, I started trying to OD. It didn't work. I'd try it over and over. It's like my body won't let me go. It would somehow get it out of my system at the last second, when I was very close. Any how, I hate to talk about it. And I will continue. <br /> <br /> Sorry to end it like that.

I have and still do think of it, I've attempted before, sometimes I regret not going through with it but other times I'm glad I didn't.<br /> <br /> There are times in my life that I wish every day I was dead.<br /> But then there are times I'm happy I'm alive.<br /> <br /> I've never really had what you'd call a good life. I had to deal with sexual and physical abuse from more than one person when I was younger and it really messed me up.<br /> When you're young and go through something like that it's like your mind and body conditions itself to be a certain way.<br /> There are so many things that make me different from other people because of what I went through that 'normal' people have a hard time understanding.<br /> I have few friends off the net as a result because not many people want to take the time to get to know me.<br /> <br /> But I do know I have people who love me and who would be bad off without me and that keeps me here.<br /> Those people and my pets keep me from doing that.<br /> <br /> I seem to surround myself with disliked or often abused animal species as a result of my past.<br /> Being able to relate to them helps me a lot and knowing I'm giving them a good life makes me happy.<br /> One day I'd like to have the resources to run a small rescue of some sort. Likely a rat rescue, the horror stories I've witnessed and heard about how people treat them upset me greatly.<br /> <br /> I'll be honest and say I'm still a very depressed person, I'm medicated and have been most of my life. I see psychiatrists quite often. There are some things that just never leave you though and try as I might I cant seem to function how I wish I could.<br /> <br /> I have daily panic and anxiety attacks, but I've had so many I'm almost used to them to the point I can take something and curl up with my dog while they pass if I'm at home. Going out is another matter though because it's unfamiliar territory.<br /> My dog can sense them sometimes especially when I'm away from home, he's become a service dog as a result.<br /> When I have a attack in a public place he'll keep me from wandering off, help me find a quiet spot in the store, and sit in my lap while it passes. I've also recently trained him to take me to the car during attacks if the attack has been triggered by something I cant avoid in the store. He's really been a god send because when I have a attack I cant think for myself and freakout to the point of being unreachable by any person with me. I kinda shut down.<br /> <br /> Sorry for giving my life story lol. I got a bit carried away. :\

I was seriously suicidal from about the time I was 15 or so to when I finally got help at 19. I will never be free of depression but I understand how to manage it now.<br /> <br /> To answer your questions:<br /> <br /> Do I still think about it after attempting? Yes, I think about it still, but not in the sense I still wish to commit suicide. I think about that time in my life to learn from it, recognize the problems and signs, so I never hit that point again. Although it's always possible I will.<br /> <br /> I do not regret not having accomplished it. What actually really stopped me every time was the thought of my sister, who I love to death. She was my reason for living and although we are not as close as we used to be now, I would still never break her heart and have her lose me. <br /> <br /> I also don't regret it because I'm out of that place now. Life can get better, even if there's moments along the way where it seems like it won't. My life isn't perfect, I still have bad days, and I still have things I could get better on. But I can honestly say I'm happy with my life and that things have improved because /I/ have worked to make them improve.<br /> <br /> It took me awhile to realize that nothing gets better without you willing to commit to working at it. Anxieties and fears are a daily struggle for me, but at the same time, conquering them makes me happier and lets me into a life I didn't know I could have long ago.<br /> <br /> But I can have it, I do have it, and as long as I am willing to face my demons I will continue to have it.<br /> <br /> I accept the depression and anxieties as part of who I am, but I do not let them control my life any longer. When I find myself slipping, I do things that help keep myself afloat, and when I get really bad, I ask for help from professionals.<br /> <br /> Things do get better, there is a happy story. You can have one too<br />