I haven't posted for quite a while but something stunning has happened to me so I thought I'd write a bit about my story here. I have what my doctors describe as recalcitrant, major, clinical depression. This is despite the fact hat I have no reason to be depressed. I have a good job where I'm well respected, a fantastic family including a wife who's stood by me through a nightmare, I live in rural paradise, we've financially secure. I did have a difficult childhood but before getting depressed I felt I'd totally got past that. Despite all that, for probably 10 years, the most positive I got was thinking I could delay "leaving" for a little while longer for the sake of my family. The worst I got was five "very serious" (in the works of my doctor) attempts. I survived by a thread, was angry about failing and was despondent that I couldn't even get ending my own life right. I've spent months in psychiatric hospital wards under compulsory orders or the threat of them. Over most of the last 10 years or so I thought about suicide every day. Many days, I was desperate to die, others I could push it away just far enough to get through most of the day OK. By evening, I was mostly deeply depressed and managed by drinking enough to bring the day to an early end. My doctors seemed lost. They tried medication after medication, so many I lost count, but probably more than 30 different antidepressant medications. Eventually, my work situation exposed my dysfunctional approach to life (if anything is wrong, it's my fault and I must fix it by working harder). I had too many really major responsibilities and ended up working 20 hours a day 3 out of 4 days for a couple of months. Then I had a moderate family conflict and felt abandoned and totally unknown to my family. I believed they didn't even know who I was, let alone that they loved me. I'd already researched medications and discovered I had a good supply of one that was frequently associated with fatal overdoses. I went to a lonely spot and combined the medication with a few others that I thought would increase the effect and a good dose of alcohol. Once I'd taken the cocktail, knowing I'd be dead within 30-40 minutes, I felt fantastic. The relief was incredibly overwhelming and I'll never forget that sense of being freed. But, in that clearer state of mind, I thought of my wife. I'd only left the barest of notes and I thought she deserved a better explanation and especially reassurance that this wasn't her fault. That was my "mistake". I called her and tried to apologise. As I started to lose consciousness, I apparently lost focus and told her where I was. She called my son (who was closer) and the police and I was found. I'm told, the ambulance crew worked on me for quite a while on site, took me to hospital and I survived, just. The hell my family went through that night will always be something I'm ashamed of. They have forgiven me the best they can (it took five years for my daughter to do that) but it's not something any child or wife should have to go through. I thought I was at rock bottom but things got worse from there. Not only did I have all the original problems but I'd just created a huge pile of extra ones. At work, my colleagues looked at me in a different light. My family was badly hurt (they couldn't understand who I was any more, the person they knew couldn't have thought of doing that to them) and thrown into crisis and confusion. _I_ had no Idea who I was any more. Professionals were telling me all sorts of things I didn't believe about myself. I accepted I shouldn't die for the sake of my family and friends but that was a nightmare. I hurt. I hurt really badly but in a way no one could see or understand. I couldn't find any way to stop the hurt other than dieing. Other attempts followed, some better than others. I've since learned that the pain very depressed people feel activates many of the the same pain centres as serious physical pain. I'm not surprised to hear that. Thoughts of suicide became a powerful tool for me, helping me to cope. "Yes, this really sucks but I don't have to bare it forever, I can always kill myself." That often gave me the strength/courage to go on a bit longer. But it also poisoned my mind.