God, I know you love me. I know you're there. But, can you hear me? I'm here, crying and begging you to listen, to help me, to prevent me from doing something idiotic. I lost my father and godfather at fourteen. My family became bankrupt and currently have no emotional support. I have no friends who I can talk to. I was forced to break up with the man I want to marry a week before Christmas due to his lack of commitment, support and respect. I work at a job with people I hate, with people who talk about me and pick on me. I can't continue my education because in doing so, I'm forced to stay home and I hate it here so much. I hate the yelling, I hate the isolation I force upon myself just so I won't leave the room and cross paths with people who make me uncomfortable. I feel hopeless, pessimistic, alone, ugly, worthless. I'm here, heartbroken and utterly alone. I have a bottle of pills that I keep on hand that I wish I had the courage to take. I'm too embarrassed to call a crisis hotline. I'm too afraid to go through with suicide. I always thought people who commit suicide were big cowards whose only way out was to sacrifice themselves and leave behind their families, heartbroken and distraught. But, now that I am in this situation, I can understand why some people are driven to such an act. To feel that there is absolutely no way to get out of this Hell. To have no one to hold you, to comfort you, to assure you that everything is going to be okay, to be too embarrassed to speak up, to be afraid of being judged and in the end you have nothing else but to end your own life. I want to walk into my sister's room and beg her to help me. But I'm afraid she'll come at me with negativity; that she'll be angry with me for even insinuating that I want death. Heaven knows I can't go to my mother. I have never been able to talk to her even about a boy I liked, let alone suicide. My only motive to keep on living in You. Because I don't want to disappoint You. I don't want to throw this precious gift of life you've given me in your face without any appreciation. But, God, I'm trying so hard... My first thoughts of suicide came so early, I can't even remember the exact age. All I know is that I was in elementary school, on my way to middle school. It started with my appearance; fat, acne, glasses, ponytail. And of course I didn't have the personality to make up for it. I was (and still am) painfully shy and keep to myself. My only true friends were the books I checked out the library and the pen that allowed me to express myself through paper. I think of myself as socially awkward, with no charisma or way to charm or entertain people. I am extremely self-conscious; I don't think I'm physically beautiful, I don't think I have a good personality, my sense of humor is odd. I am completely invisible. Sometimes not even my faith is enough. Sometimes the fear of going to Hell isn't enough to scare me. Tonight, I may take 2 painkillers for this horrid headache I have... Or, I might take 23 and go to sleep and never wake up. I don't know. But, whatever my choice is: Forgive me.