I've been reading some of the threads on a few of the categories sf has listed... People really seem to have major problems, you know? And, almost, it seems like somehow they'd be justified for committing suicide, because who could really be expected to deal with all of that by themselves? It seems like too much to expect from a mere human being. I'm sixteen and I've been suicidal for four years. It's still hard for me to type that, much less say it out loud. My friends... the people who know me... They'd think I was crazy if they heard I was suicidal, you know? They really would. They wouldn't believe it. Who would? I have a 4.0 in a prep high school. I'm a grade ahead of where I should be. I know three or four boys who would love to be my boyfriend. I have two parents (still together) and an older sister- we're not rich, but certainly not poor. We attend church every Sunday and I play in the church and youth group orchestra. I have a nice group of friends, I am involved in many extracurriculars, my teachers love me... What more could someone ask for? I suppose it seems crazy to all of you, too. But I don't tell people that my parents spend more time yelling at each other and my sister and I than breathing. I don't tell people that my parents never think anything I do is good enough. I don't tell people how much effort it actually takes to get a 4.0 and how afraid I am of the consequences if it should slip. I don't tell people that my dad sometimes loses his temper and throws things or hits me. I don't tell people that I hate myself and don't believe anyone could ever love me. I don't tell people that I cut myself with needles. I don't tell people that my parents who lead their bible studies come home and have something negative to say about everyone they talk to there. I don't tell people that I'm not allowed to cry. I don't tell people that I'm becoming anorexic. I don't tell people that the career I'm going into is only the one my mother wants for me. No one knows. No one knows what a horrible person I really am. You see, I must be horrible or my parents would love me. I want them to love me so much that I'll do anything. They don't love me, though. They call me terrible, lying, deceitful, manipulative... Should I go on? It doesn't matter how many times I apologize and try to be perfect. I can't be. But that's not acceptable. I just want peace, you know? I just want to end it so that it will be quiet. I just want nothingness. I'm afraid I don't even deserve that.