My first suicidal thought was in 1st grade, my second was around 3rd. I thought about taking my life more times than I can count. At one point my mother had found out that I hated my life. She threatened to put me up for adoption just so I would know how good I had it. My parents never saw all of the pills I took, nor did they truly understand, after the fact, why I had refused to take pills unless I absolutely needed them. They saw a select few cuts on my skin and responded by grounding me, to keep me from my friends, and by punishing me. I was looked down upon because of it, which only made me feel more worthless as a human being. They treated it as a bad character choice, like committing a crime. Maybe they didn't understand it was just too many emotions. How they handled it only shut me further in. I wonder if they ever thought to ask... What was going on or how they could help. I already felt so low, they just pushed me farther down the hole. I just needed someone... Someone to listen without judgment, to let me know it would all be OK, to know that someone was there for me, to know that I meant something to someone. I only felt numb from too much anger, sadness, and pain. I asked the strongest, happiest person I knew how she dealt with depression and what she did when she got sad. She told me, "I think of all my family and how blessed I am to have them. Ask someone for help, talk to someone if you are feeling sad." Keep yourself breathing, if only to make sure the goldfish survives and the plants don't die. I don't fully know what you are going through, but there are people here for you. Don't be afraid to reach out if you need help, or someone to listen. You deserve so much more happiness.
You are ENOUGH.
You are NEEDED.
You are LOVED.
