I’m new to the forum; in fact I registered about 5 minutes ago. I’m sorry if this is in the wrong forum, it just seemed to fit so many, if it is a problem please tell me so, moderators I’m sorry to have wasted your time if you have to move this. This sentence serves as my disclaimer, I'm in sort of a predicament right now and my feelings are at their worst. I need to talk about this but I can only do so anonymously, my rant may include a "trigger". If it does please, please PM me and we can chat. Perhaps before we get too far into the mess of things currently known as my life I should provide the readers at home with a little bit of background. As can see in my profile I am 17, I live with my parents and everyone seems so happy (ignorance is bliss, if only I could go back to that eh?). that right there makes things rather hard, I CANT talk to my parents about this, I actually don’t feel comfortable typing this (I'm on the verge of tears, I suspect I will overcome that barrier once I get to writing). I live in a rather rich county; every household makes good money and is upper-middle or high class. Both my parents are very successful, they work very little but have put themselves in a position to make a lot of money. We live pretty peacefully, we never fight, never argue, in fact we co-exist rather nicely. Everything seems so perfect... but its not. Its not and I'm the only one that can see it, the only one capable of understanding why. Going back a little further, I spend all of my time in my room, sometimes I come out for meals, usually I don’t. My parents think nothing of me spending this much time alone. I wake up and for the hour or so I see them a day everything is ok, we are around each other, everyone’s quiet, we all feign smiles and then I retire to my room. They have no idea my depression. For the last 4 years or so, pretty much my whole high school carrier thus far, I've been depressed. Not "blue" not "sad" depressed and very much so non-stop for 4 years now. I’m suffering from horrible insomnia, sleeping anywhere from 1-4 hours a night when I sleep. I’m sure this sleep debt doesn’t help my depression any either. I lie awake at night trying to sleep wishing I could just die of an embolism or something freak and unexpected so my parents would grieve less. I've though about suicide before, I've actually tried several times, failing one time after another. My parents, doctor, friends and teachers are none the wiser. They’ve no idea how depressed I am they write it of as lethargy from the insomnia. I've (unfortunately) dabbled in SI. I have rather deep cuts down both my thighs, and random cuts all over my arms and legs. In a *very* embarrassing physical recently I was put between a rock and a hard place (or as fate had it a locked door and an annoyingly inquisitive physician). I was unable to explain them but after some pleading she agreed to keep it under wraps and not inform my parents or school. Of course this came after I refused to take their depression questionnaire which they included in the paperwork for me to fill out along with a urine sample. I’m sure anyone reading this feels that thus far all of this has been trivial at best, that my whole dilemma has been a silly rant. I’m sorry that you feel that way I'm sorry for wasting your time, you're free to leave. For those who will venture on into my rant, thank you. Without further delay I present more background as to my distorted and grim view towards this thing known as perception and self-awareness. When I was 14 I was strongly encouraged (forced) to join the local fire dept. I soon found that while most people loved calls dealing with fire my personal favorites were MVA's. As cruel as it was I enjoyed seeing the car crashed. While most were rather lame every once in a while there would be a car that suddenly met a tree at 40 mph. I was unable to do anything more than watch. I will admit as much as I enjoyed seeing physics at its best the gruesome scenes bothered me. We had a particularly bad one that was toned out rather lightly. Unbeknownst to the dispatcher, and therefore everyone responding it was a decapitation. That scene stuck with me, and gave me nightmares for a good week following. However I developed a sort of apathy toward it all, and in turn an apathy toward life itself. Bodies, death, blood, and grieving no longer bothered me in the least. When I was 16 I got my EMT and started riding with the ambulance which further exacerbated this outlook. At the age of 17 I've seen some thing's that I shouldn't have, I've seen people in the darkest of times, I knew first hand of deaths leering eye. But thus far my rant has focused on my past, the precursors to the god-awful situation I'm in presently. As silly as it seems this rant focuses not on my past, for I cannot change those events which have occurred, rather it focuses on the present. Namely the last week: tensions have been growing tighter between me and my parents, at first I suspected that they had grown wise to my darkest of secrets but I’m now I know that fear was in vain. My depression will remain a skeleton for now, rather it collages that my parents have been trying to talk to me about, and it seems that going into my senior year everyone else wants to hear about to (including that benevolently malicious physician). I've picked my major and my school, seen the campus and completed the entire entourage expected of me. And yet people are attacking me about it, everyone wants to talk about it (as if this isn’t hard enough going into senior year). To complement this heightened tension my grandparents have dropped and are staying with us. This brings a radical change to what’s expected of me: I am now forced to entertain my family by sitting with them at meals. They put me on the defensive by attacking my solitude, my refusal to eat (I’m not hungry when they eat) further emphasizes their 'concern'. Because my usual rounds include cleaning the house whenever the parents aren’t around they choose once again to attack me, acting as though it’s amazing that I can prepare my own meal, grocery shop and clean! Today has been the worst yet though it has definitely been a bad day; in fact its macabre deserves its own paragraph.