So I've been suffering from recurring clinical depression since I was 12 (among many other things). Since last October, I was hit by depression and hit hard. I was just sitting in class on a monday morning, when I started having thoughts of how I should just end it because I'm incapable of functioning on a normal level, and am pretty much a defective human being, but am able to appear perfectly normal.(this was after being worn down to the breaking point). I made a plan to kill myself the following saturday (the day after my birthday). Obviousely I didn't go through with it, but I was damn close. I've always been good with faking emotions, so naturally no one knew I had a problem. When Monday came by, I just sat in bed and refused to go to school because it was, and always has been a major stressor in my life. My insomnia also became much worse because of the fact that I coulnd't kill myself. Not sleeping was the reason I gave to my parents and the school for staying home. I didn't go to school for weeks until my parents dragged me back to see the school counselor. I faked my reasoning for everything. since I was already at school, I finished the rest of the day. I then missed several more weeks of school, but came back for the last few weeks until the holiday break. I was planning on doing it soon after, but decided to wait until after Christmas (no need to ruin family fun time, amirite?)Once again, I came close, but couldn't take the leap of faith. When school started again, I went back to my ways and refused to go back to that hell hole. I started taking prozac again after seeing my doctor, but this was of little help. My parents finally made me go to a therapist. It was nice being able to talk with someone, but I never told him the truth. I never exposed my true demons. When I finally reached a point at which living was no longer tolerable, I thought of a plan to finally finish it. Since I was clearly incapable of doing it at my own home with my family there, I decided to do it somewhere else. (I'm 16 and haven't gotten my driving license yet, and have dependency issues, so leaving on my own and finding a place to do the deed isn't quite feasible for me, oh boy, another reason...) The day had finally come-relief!! I hid a very small, very sharp razor in my sock and went to my therapist like normal. After the usual "how's it going", I told my therapist that I was really wanting to off myself. After a long, uncomfortable talk, he called my father into the room. He told him that I need to go to the hospital to spend the night. After a short drive home, my parents brought me to the hospital where I then was put into a room and questioned for a while. After an even more uncomfortable talk with a complete stranger, I was sent back home, much to my dissapointment. My plan was to get admitted, but not to appear as if I was critically suicidal so I wouldn't be watched every second. I was then going to barricade my self in the room when no one was looking, then use the razor to slice several of my arteries. Being the smooth talker that I am, even though I'm an empty shell, I managed to over-do the way I wanted to sound, so I didn't get to spend the night there because I didn't make it sound like I was at enough risk (ironic, eh?) I was so close... Anyways, my therapist wouldn't treat people at my level of depression, so I went to see my old child psychiatrist. I was given a new anti-depressant, which worked for a few months, but now the effects are starting to wear off. Which leads me to the reason for posting this. I really want to kill myself right about now. I'm not going to (at least not until I go through the trouble of prepping everything again). I just wanted to hear what everyone else thinks, or if they care to share their own experiences with anything related to suicide. Sorry for the long ass post, but I've never let this out.