I'm new to the forum. I decided to join because last week I attempted suicide and failed, and now have things to deal with and work through that I cannot really discuss with anyone in real life. I'm going to heavy with background story because that's how I explain things, and I'm going to try to edit this as little as possible so it comes out real, and so that I can get advice and opinions based on what I'm actually feeling, so I apologize if it gets a little long. I've been depressed / suicidal for a couple of years now. The depression doesn't change but the suicidal feelings come and go. This year however, it's been extremely bad. I've planned on suicide before but except for one time before, I've never really tried. (Once I tried to xxxx. My mother thought I got a stomach bug.) I've been researching methods to commit suicide and finding xxxxto be my answer. During the summer I tried taking something, but all it did was make me very sick. Again, nobody seemed to suspect anything. But I was greatly disappointed, and so did more research. I finally found a substance that would work and was easily (if not expensive) to obtain. I purchased the product, but kept it hidden. About a month later, I finally decided to go through with it. My initial plan was on a weekend because someone picks me up for work every morning and I didn't want them to be waiting. However, I decided to go through with it. I took some of the substance and put the rest away, laid down in bed. It was a bit early, but I'm a bit of a recluse and knew my roommate wouldn't notice anything weird. My last memory that night is lying down in bed, but I guess there was a point during the evening where I got up and went to take a shower. My roommate came home around 10ish and heard the shower running. But when forty five minutes had passed and the shower was still running, she got nervous and knocked on the door. When I didn't answer, she opened the door and found me, appearing to have suffered a seizure. She called my sister who said she should call 911. The EMT's came, took care of me and then checked out the house to find signs on drug use, of which they found none. The point is, my first real, conscious memory of the hospital, I was sure I was in a psychiatric hospital, not a medical one. It wasn't for several hours that I realized nobody knew. That was the biggest surprise to me: nobody knew. I had almost successfully committed suicide and no one knew. In fact, my siblings, parents and roommates argued passionately for my mental state; I was not depressed, definitely not suicidal and would never take drugs. My first question is how could no one I know be aware of these issues with me. I'm 25 years old, have very few friends (by choice. I don't meet people and don't keep in touch with them when I do), and spent most days alone in my bedroom. I spend days without any real conversation, and yet every one thinks I'm fine? No one had ever said anything, but I assumed they all knew. Depression runs in my family line, and I couldn't be that good as an actor, right? So now I'm stuck with a lot of guilt. My sister was put out a lot by my being in the hospital. She also did a lot of very sweet things for me, including borrowing a lot of money to get me certain gifts she knew I would like (and I do). But I don't know how to deal with her, or really anyone. I hate telling people I had a seizure (the hospital's diagnosis), but I cannot tell anyone I know the truth. I could lose my job and then there really would be no point. I guess, I just want advice in how to process these emotions and how to move on from here. Thanks for reading, even if you have nothing to say.